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THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Just published, uniform with this volume . 


AGNES OF SORRENTO; 

AN ITALIAN ROMANCE. 

By Mrs. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 


ONE volume 12mo. $1.25. 


TTCKNOR AND FIELDS, Publishers. 


THE 


PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND: 


A STORY OP THE COAST OF MAINE. 


Mbs. HARRIET (BEECHER; STOWE, 

AUTHOR OF “UNCLE TOM’S CABIN,” “ THE MINISTER’S WOOING,” ETC. 

J 


FIFTH EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

TIOKNOR AND FIELDS. 

1862. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1862, by 
Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 


Glrf 

estate 01 P * 
niluam c * 




RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H. 0. HOUGHTON. 


THE PEARL OP ORE’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER I. 

On the road to the Kennebec, below the town of Bath, 
in the State of Maine, might have been seen, on a cer- 
tain autumnal afternoon, a one-horse wagon, in which two 
persons were sitting. One is an old man, with the pecu- 
liarly hard but expressive physiognomy which character- 
izes the seafaring population of the New England shores. 

A clear blue eye, evidently practised in habits of keen 
observation, white hair, bronzed, weather-beaten cheeks, 
and a face deeply lined with the furrows of shrewd 
thought and anxious care, were points of the portrait 
that made themselves felt at a glance. 

By his side sat a young woman of two-and-twenty, of 
a marked and peculiar personal appearance. Her hair 
was black, and smoothly parted on a broad forehead, to 
which a pair of pencilled dark eyebrows gave a striking 
and definite outline. Beneath, lay a pair of large black 
eyes, remarkable for tremulous expression of melancholy 
and timidity. The cheek was white and bloodless as a 
snowberry, though with the clear and perfect oval of 
good health ; the mouth was delicately formed, with a 
certain sad quiet in its lines, which indicated a habitu- 
ally repressed and sensitive nature. 

The dress of this young person, as often happens in 


2 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


New England, was, in refinement and even elegance, a 
marked contrast to that of her male companion and to 
the humble vehicle in which she rode. There was not 
only the most fastidious neatness, but a delicacy in the 
choice of colors, an indication of elegant tastes in the 
whole arrangement, and the quietest suggestion ift the 
world of an acquaintance with the usages of fashion, 
which struck one oddly in those wild and dreary sur- 
roundings. On the whole, she impressed one like those 
fragile wild-flowers which in April cast their fluttering 
shadows from the mossy crevices of the old New Eng- 
land granite, — an existence in which colorless delicacy 
is united to a sort of elastic hardihood of life, fit for the 
rocky soil and harsh winds it is born to encounter. 

The scenery of the road along which the two were 
riding was wild and bare. Only savins and mulleins, 
with their dark pyramids or white spires of velvet leaves, 
diversified the sandy way-side ; but out at sea was a wide 
sweep of blue, reaching far to the open ocean, which lay 
rolling, tossing, and breaking into white caps of foam in 
the bright sunshine. For two or three days a north-east 
storm had been raging, and the sea was in all the com- 
motion which such a general upturning creates. 

The two travellers reached a point of elevated land, 
where they paused a moment, and the man drew up the 
jogging, stiff-jointed old farm-horse, and raised himself 
upon his feet to look out at the prospect. 

There might be seen in the distance the blue Kenne- 
bec sweeping out toward the ocean through its pictur- 
esque rocky shores, decked with cedars and other dusky 
evergreens, which were illuminated by the orange and 
flarne-colored trees of Indian summer. Here and there 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


3 


scarlet creepers swung long trailing garlands over the 
faces of the dark rock, and fringes of golden rod above 
swayed with the brisk blowing wind that was driving the 
blue waters seaward, in face of the up-coming ocean tide, — 
a conflict which caused them to rise in great foam-crested 
waves. There were two channels into this river from 
the open sea, navigable for ships which are coming in 
to the city of Bath ; one is broad and shallow, the other 
narrow and deep, and these are divided by a steep ledge 
of rocks. 

Where the spectators of this scene were sitting, they 
could see in the distance a ship borne with tremendous 
force by the rising tide into the mouth of the river, and 
encountering a north-west wind which had succeeded the 
gale, as northwest winds often do on this coast. The 
ship, from what might be observed in the distance, seemed 
struggling to make the wider channel, but was constantly- 
driven off by the baffling force of the wind. 

“ There she is, Naomi,” said the old fisherman, eagerly, 
to his companion, “coming right in.” The young woman 
was one of the sort that never start, and never exclaim, 
but with all deeper emotions grow still. The color slow- 
ly mounted into her cheek, her lips parted, and her eyes 
dilated with a wide, bright expression ; her breathing 
came in thick gasps, but she said nothing. 

The old fisherman stood up in the wagon, his coarse, 
butternut-colored coat-flaps fluttering and snapping in the 
breeze, while his interest seemed to be so intense in the 
efforts of the ship that he made involuntary and eager 
movements as if to direct her course. A moment passed, 
and his keen, practised eye discovered a change in her 
movements, for he cried out involuntarily, — 


4 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ DorCt take the narrow channel to-day!” and a mo- 
ment after, “ O Lord ! O Lord ! have mercy, — there 
they go ! Look ! look ! look ! ” 

And, in fact, the ship rose on a great wave clear out 
of the water, and the next second seemed to leap with a 
desperate plunge into the narrow passage; for a moment 
there was a shivering of the masts and the rigging, and 
she went down and .was gone. 

“ They ’re split to pieces ! ” cried the fisherman. “ Oh, 
my poor girl — my poor girl — they ’re gone ! O Lord, 
have mercy ! ” 

The woman lifted up no voice, but, as one who has 
been shot through the heart falls with no cry, she fell 
back, — a mist rose up over her great mournful eyes, — 
she had fainted. 

The story of this wreck of a home-bound ship just 
entering the harbor is yet told in many a family on this 
coast. A few hours after, the unfortunate crew were 
washed ashore in all the joyous holiday rig in which 
they had attired themselves that morning to go to their 
sisters, wives, and mothers. 

This is the first scene in our story. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


5 


CHAPTER II. 

Down near the end of Orr’s Island, facing the open ocean, 
stands a brown house of the kind that the natives call “ lean- 

f 

to,” or “ linter,” — one of those large, comfortable structures, 
barren in the ideal, but rich in the practical, which the 
working-man of New England can always command. 

The waters of the ocean came up within a rod of this 
house, and the sound of its moaning waves was even no\4 
filling the clear autumn starlight. Evidently something wat- 
going on within, for candles fluttered and winked from win'- 
dow to window, like fireflies in a dark meadow, and sounds 
as of quick footsteps, and the flutter of brushing garments, 
might be heard. 

Something unusual is certainly going on within the dwell- 
ing of Zephaniah Pennel to-night. 

Let us enter the dark front-door. We feel our way to 
the right, where a solitary ray of light comes from the cfiink 
of a half-opened door. 

Here is the front room of the house, set apart as its place 
of especial social hilarity and sanctity, — the “ best room,” 
with its low studded walls, white dimity window-curtains, 
rag carpet, and polished wood chairs. 

It is now lit by the dim gleam of a solitary tallow candle, 
which seems in the gloom to make only a feeble circle of 
light around itself, leaving all the rest of the apartment in 
shadow. 

In the centre of the room, stretched upon a table, and 


6 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


covered partially by a sea-cloak, lies*the body of a man of 
twenty-five, — lies, too, evidently as one of whom it is 
written, — “ He shall return to his house no more, neither 
shall his place know him any more.” A splendid man- 
hood has suddenly been called to forsake that lifeless form, 
leaving it, like a deserted palace, beautiful in its desola- 
tion. 

The hair, dripping with the salt wave, curled in glossy 
abundance on the finely-formed head ; the flat, broad brow ; 
the closed eye, with its long black lashes ; the firm, manly 
mouth ; the strongly-moulded chin, — all, all were sealed 
with that seal which is never to be broken till the great 
resurrection day. 

He was lying in a full suit of broadcloth, with a white 
vest and smart blue neck-tie, fastened with a pin, in which 
was some braided hair under a crystal. All his clothing, as 
well as his hair, was saturated with sea-water, which trickled 
from time to time, and struck with a leaden and dropping 
sound into a sullen pool which lay under the table. 

This was the body of James Lincoln, ship-master of the 
brig Flying Scud, who that morning had dressed himself 
gayly in his state-room to go on shore and meet his wife, — 
singing and jesting as he did so. 

This is all that you have to learn in the foom below ; but 
as we stand there,. we hear a trampling of feet in the apart- 
ment above, — the quick yet careful opening and shutting 
of doors, — and voices come and go about the house, and 
whisper consultations on the stairs. Now comes the roll of 
wheels, and the Doctor’s gig drives up to the door ; and, as 
he goes creaking up with his heavy boots, we will follow and 
gain admission to the dimly-lighted chamber. 

Two gossips are sitting in earnest, whispering conversa- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


7 


tion over a small bundle done up in an old flannel petticoat. 
To them the doctor is about to address himself cheerily, but 
is repelled by sundry signs and sounds which warn him not 
to speak. 

Moderating his heavy boots as well as he is able to a pace 
of quiet, he advances for a moment, and the petticoat is un- 
folded for him to glance at its contents ; while a low, eager, 
whispered conversation, attended with much head-shaking, 
warns him that his first duty is with somebody behind the 
checked curtains of a bed in the farther corner of the room. 
He steps on tiptoe, and draws the curtain ; and there, with 
closed eye, and cheek as white as wintry snow, lies the same 
face over which passed the shadow of death when that ill- 
fated ship went down. 

This woman was wife to him who lies below, and within 
the hour has been made mother to a frail little human exist- 
ence, which the storm of a great anguish has driven untime- 
ly on the shores of life, — a precious pearl cast up from the 
past eternity upon the wet, wave-ribbed sand of the present. 
Now, weary with her moanings, and beaten out with the 
wrench of a double anguish, she lies with closed eyes in that 
passive apathy which precedes deeper shadows and longer 
rest. 

Over against her, on the other side of the bed, sits an aged 
woman in an attitude of deep dejection, and the old man we 
saw with her in the morning is standing with an anxious, 
awe-struck face at the foot of the bed. 

The doctor feels the pulse of the woman, or rather lays 
an inquiring finger where the slightest thread of vital cur- 
rent is scarcely throbbing, and shakes his head mourn- 
fully. 

The touch of his hand rouses her, — her large, wild, mel- 


8 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


ancholy eyes fix themselves on him with an inquiring glance, 
then she shivers and moans, — 

“ Oh, Doctor, Doctor ! — Jamie, Jamie ! ” 

“ Come, come ! ” said the doctor, “ cheer up, my girl ; 
you ’ve got a fine little daughter, — the Lord mingles mer- 
cies with his afflictions.” 

Her eyes closed, her head moved with a mournful but 
decided dissent. 

A moment after she spoke in the sad old words of the 
Hebrew Scripture, — 

“ Call her not Naomi ; call her Mara, for the Almighty 
hath dealt very bitterly with me.” * 

And as she spoke, there passed over her face the sharp 
frost of the last winter ; but even as it passed there broke 
out a smile, as if a flower had been thrown down from Para- 
dise, and she said, — 

“ Not my will, but thy will,” and so was gone. 

Aunt Roxy and Aunt Ruey were soon left alone in the 
chamber of death. 

“ She ’ll make a beautiful corpse,” said Aunt Roxy, sur- 
veying the still, white form contemplatively, with her head 
in an artistic attitude. 

“ She was a pretty girl,” said Aunt Ruey ; “ dear me, 
what a Providence ! I ’member the wedd’n down in that 
lower room, and what a handsome couple they were.” 

“ They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in 
their deaths they were not divided,” said Aunt Roxy, sen- 
tentiously. 

“ What was it she said, did ye hear ? ” said Aunt Ruey. 

“ She called the baby ‘ Mary.’ ” 

“ Ah ! sure enough, her mother’s name afore her. What 
a still, softly-spoken thing she always was ! ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


9 


“ A pity the poor baby did n’t go with her,” said Aunt 
Roxy ; “ seven-months’ children are so hard to raise.” 

“ ’T is a pity,” said the other. 

But babies will live, and all the more when everybody 
says that it is a pity they should. Life goes on as inex- 
orably in this world as death. 

It was ordered by the Will above that out of these two 
graves should spring one frail, trembling autumn flower, — 
the “ Mara ” whose poor little roots first struck deep in the 
salt, bitter waters of our mortal life. 


10 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER III. 

Now, I cannot think of anything more unlikely and unin- 
teresting to make a story of than that old brown “ linter ” 
house of Captain Zephaniah Pennel, down on the south 
end of Orr’s Island. 

Zephaniah and Mary Pennel, like Zacharias and Eliza- 
beth, are a pair of worthy, God-fearing people, walking in 
all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless ; 
but that is no great recommendation to a world gaping for 
sensation and calling for something stimulating. This wor- 
thy couple never read anything but the Bible, the Missionary 
Herald , and the Christian Mirror , — never went anywhere' 
except in the round of daily business. He owned a fishing- 
smack, in which he labored after the apostolic fashion ; and 
she washed, and ironed, and scrubbed, and brewed, and baked, 
in her contented round, week in and out. The only recrea- 
tion they ever enjoyed was the going once a week, in good 
weather, to a prayer-meeting in a little old brown school- 
house, about a mile from their dwelling; and making a 
weekly excursion every Sunday, in their fishing craft, to 
the church opposite, on Harpswell Neck. 

To be sure, Zephaniah had read many wide leaves 
of God’s great book of Nature, for, like most Maine 
sea-captains, he had been wherever ship can go, — to all 
usual and unusual ports. His hard, shrewd, weather-beaten 
visage had been seen looking over the railings of his brig 
in the port of Genoa, swept round by its splendid crescent of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


11 


palaces and its snow-crested Apennines. It had looked out 
in the Lagoons of Venice at that wavy floor which in evening 
seems a sea of glass mingled with fire, and out of which rise 
temples, and palaces, and churches, and distant silvery Alps, 
like so many fabrics of dream-land. He had been through 
the Skagerrack and Cattegat, — into the Baltic, and away 
round to Archangel, and there chewed a bit of chip, and 
considered and calculated what bargains it was best to make. 
He had walked the streets of Calcutta in his shirt-sleeves, 
with his best Sunday vest, backed with black glazed cambric, 
which six months before came from the hands of Miss Roxy, 
and was pronounced by her to be as good as any tailor 
could make ; and in all these places he was just Zephaniah 
Pennel, — a chip of old Maine, — thrifty, careful, shrewd, 
honest, God-fearing, and carrying an instinctive knowledge 
of men and things under a face of rustic simplicity. 

It was once, returning from ’one of his voyages, that he 
found his wife with a black-eyed, curly-headed little creature, 
who called him papa, and climbed on his knee, nestled under 
his coat, rifled his pockets, and woke him every morning by 
pulling open his eyes with little fingers, and jabbering unin- 
telligible dialects in his ears. 

“ We will call this child Naomi, wife,” he said, after con- 
sulting his old Bible; “for that means pleasant, and I’m 
sure I never see anything beat her for pleasantness. I 
never knew as children was so engagin’!” 

It was to be remarked that Zephaniah after this made 
shorter and shorter voyages, being somehow conscious of a 
string around his heart which pulled him harder and harder, 
till one Sunday,' when the little Naomi was five years old, 
he said to his wife, — 

“ I hope I a’n’t a-pervertin’ Scriptur’ nor nuthin’, but I 


12 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


can’t help thinkin’ of one passage, ‘ The kingdom of heaven 
is like a merchantman seeking goodly pearls, and when he 
hath found one pearl of great price, for joy thereof he goeth 
and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that pearl.’ Well, 
Mary, 1 ’ve been and sold my brig last week,” he said, fold- 
ing his daughter’s little quiet head under his coat, “’cause 
it seems to me the Lord ’s given us this pearl of great price, 
and it ’s enough for us. I don’t want to be rambling round 
the world after riches. We’ll have a little farm down on 
Orr’s Island, and I ’ll have a little fishing-smack, and we’ll 
live and be happy together.” 

And so Mary, who in those days was a pretty young 
married woman, felt herself rich and happy, — no duchess 
richer or happier. The two contentedly delved and toiled, 
and the little Naomi was their princess. The wise men of 
the East at the feet of an infant, offering gifts, gold, frank- 
incense, and myrrh, is just a parable of what goes on in 
every house where there is a young child. All the hard 
and the harsh, and the common and the disagreeable, is 
for the parents, — all the bright and beautiful for their 
child. 

When the fishing-smack went to Portland to sell mack- 
erel, there came home in Zephaniah’s fishy coat-pocket 
strings of coral beads, tiny gaiter boots, brilliant silks 
and ribbons for the little fairy princess, — his Pearl of 
the Island; and sometimes, when a stray party from the 
neighboring town of Brunswick came down to explore 
the romantic scenery of the solitary island, they would be 
startled by the apparition of this still, graceful, dark-eyed 
child, exquisitely dressed in the best and 'brightest that the 
shops of a neighboring city could afford, — sitting like some 
tropical bird on a lonely rock, where the sea came dashing 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


13 


up into the edges of arbor vitae, or tripping along the wet 
sands for shells and sea-weed. 

Many children would have been spoiled by such unlimited 
indulgence ; but there are natures sent down into this harsh 
world so timorous, and sensitive, and helpless in themselves, 
that the utmost stretch of indulgence and kindness is needed 
for their development, — like plants which the warmest shelf 
of the green-house and the most careful watch of the gardener 
alone can bring into flower. 

The pale child, with her large, lustrous, dark eyes, and 
sensitive organization, was nursed and brooded into a beauti- 
ful womanhood, and then found a protector in a high-spirited, 
manly young ship-master, and she became his wife. 

And now we see in the best room — the walls lined with 
serious faces — men, women, and children, that have come 
to pay the last tribute of sympathy to the living and the 
dead. 

The house looked so utterly alone and solitary in that 
wild, sea-girt island, that one would have .as soon expected 
the sea-waves to rise and walk in, as so many neighbors ; but 
they had come from neighboring points, crossing the glassy 
sea in their little crafts, whose white sails looked like millers* 
wings, or walking miles from distant parts of the island. 

Some writer calls a funeral one of the amusements of a 
New England population. Must we call it an amusement 
to go and see the acted despair of Medea ? or the dying 
agonies of poor Adrienne Lecouvreur ? It is something of 
the same awful interest in life’s tragedy, which makes an 
untaught and primitive people gather to a funeral, — a 
tragedy where there is no acting, — and one which each 
one feels must come at some time to his own dwelling. 

Be that as it may, here was a roomful. Not only Aunt 


14 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Roxy and Aunt Ruey, who by a prescriptive right presided 
over all the births, deaths, and marriages of the neighbor- 
hood, but there was Captain Kittridge, a long, dry, weather- 
beaten old sea-captain, who sat as if tied in a double bow- 
knot, with his little fussy old wife, with a great Leghorn 
bonnet, and eyes like black glass beads shining through 
the bows of her horn spectacles, and her hymn-book in her 
hand ready to lead the psalm. There were aunts, uncles, 
cousins, and brethren of the deceased ; and in the' midst 
stood two coffins, where the two united in death lay sleep- 
ing tenderly, as those to whom rest is good. All was still as 
death, except a chance whisper from some busy neighbor, or 
a creak of an old lady’s great black fan, or the fizz of a fly 
down the window-pane, and then a stifled sound of deep- 
drawn breath and weeping from under a cloud of heavy 
black crape veils, that were together in the group which 
country-people call the mourners. 

A gleam of autumn sunlight streamed through the white 
curtains, and fell on a silver baptismal vase that stood on 
the mother’s coffin, as the minister rose and said, “ The 
ordinance of baptism will now be administered.” A few 
moments more, and on a baby brow had fallen a few drops 
of water, and the little pilgrim of a new life had been called 
Mara in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, — 
the minister slowly repeating thereafter those beautiful words 
of Holy Writ, “ A father of the fatherless is God in his holy 
habitation,” — as if the baptism of that bereaved one had 
been a solemn adoption into the infinite heart of the 
Lord. 

With something of the quaint pathos which distinguishes 
the primitive and Biblical people of that lonely shore, the 
minister read the passage in Ruth from which the name of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


15 


the little stranger was drawn, and which describes the return 
of the bereaved Naomi to her native land. His voice trem- 
bled, and there were tears in many eyes as he read, u And 
it came to pass as she came to Bethlehem, all the city was 
moved about them ; and they said, Is this Naomi ? And 
she said unto them, Call me not Naomi ; call me Mara ; for 
the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went out 
full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty: why 
then call ye me Naomi, seeing the Lord hath testified against 
me, and the Almighty hath afflicted me ? ” 

Deep, heavy sobs from the mourners were for a few mo- 
ments the only answer to these sad words, till the minister 
raised the old funeral psalm of New England, — 

“ Why do we mourn departing friends, 

Or shake at Death’s alarms? 

’Tis but the voice that Jesus sends 
To call them to his arms. 

Are we not tending upward too, 

As fast as time can move? 

And should we wish the hours more slow 
That bear us to our love? ” 

The words rose in old “ China,” — that strange, wild 
warble, whose quaintly blended harmonies might have been 
learned of moaning seas or wailing winds, so strange and 
grand they rose, full of that intense pathos which rises over 
every defect of execution ; and as they sung, Zephaniah 
Pennel straightened his tall form, before bowed on his hands, 
and looked heavenward, his cheeks wet with tears, but some- 
thing sublime and immortal shining upward through his blue 
eyes ; and at the last verse he came forward involuntarily, 
and stood by his dead, and his voice rose over all the others 
as he sung, — 


16 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


“ Then let the last loud trumpet sound, 

And bid the dead arise! 

Awake, ye nations under ground! 

Ye saints, ascend the skies ! ” 

The sunbeam through the window-curtain fell on his silver 
hair, and they that looked beheld his face as it were the face 
of an angel ; he had gotten a sight of the city whose founda- 
tion is jasper, and whose every gate is a separate pearl. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


17 


CHAPTER IV. 

The sea lay like an unbroken mirror all around the pine- 
girt, lonely shores of Orr’s Island. Tall, kingly spruces 
wore their regal ccowns of cones high in air, sparkling 
with diamonds of clear exuded gum ; vast old hemlocks of 
primeval growth stood darkling in their forest shadows, 
their branches hung with long hoary moss ; while feathery 
larches, turned to brilliant gold by autumn frosts, lighted up 
the darker shadows of the evergreens. It was one of those 
hazy, calm, dissolving days of Indian summer, when every- 
thing is so quiet that the faintest kiss of the wave on the 
beach can be heard, and white clouds seem to faint into the 
blue of the sky, and soft swathing bands of violet vapor 
make all earth look dreamy, and give to the sharp, clear- 
cut outlines of the northern landscape all those mysteries 
of light and shade which impart such tenderness to Italian 
scenery. 

The funeral was over, — the tread of many feet, bearing 
the heavy burden of two broken lives, had been to the lonely 
graveyard, and had come back again, — each footstep lighter 
and more unconstrained as each one went his way from the 
great old tragedy of Death to the common cheerful walks of 
Life. 

The solemn black clock stood swaying with its eternal 
« tick-tock, tick-tock,” in the kitchen of the brown house on 
Orr’s Island. There was there that sense of a stillness that 


18 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


can be felt, — such as settles down on a dwelling when any 
of its inmates have passed through its doors for the last 
time, to go whence they shall not return. The best room 
was shut up and darkened, with only so much light as could 
fall through a little heart-shaped hole in the window-shutter, 
— for except on solemn visits, or prayer-meetings, or wed- 
dings, or funerals, that room formed no part of the daily 
family scenery. 

The kitchen was clean and ample, with a great open fire- 
place and wide stone hearth, and oven .on one side, and rows 
of old-fashioned splint-bottomed chairs against the wall. A 
table scoured to snowy whiteness, and a little work-stand 
whereon lay the Bible, the Missionary Herald , and the 
Weekly Christian Mirror , before named, formed the prin- 
cipal furniture. One feature, however, must not be for- 
gotten, — a great sea-chest, which had been the companion 
of Zephaniah through all the countries of the earth. Old, 
and battered, and unsightly it looked, yet report said that 
there was good store within of that which men for the most 
part respect more than anything else ; and, indeed, it proved 
often when a deed of grace was to be done, — when a woman 
was suddenly made a widow in a coast gale, or a fishing- 
smack was run down in the fogs off the banks, leaving in 
some neighboring cottage a family of orphans, — in all such 
cases, the opening of this sea-chest was an event of good 
omen to the bereaved ; for Zephaniah had a large heart and 
a large hand, and was apt to take it out full of silver dollars 
when once it went in. So the ark of the covenant could not 
have been looked on with more reverence than the neighbors 
usually showed to Captain Pennel’s sea-chest. 

The afternoon sun is shining in a square of light through 
the open kitchen-door, whence one dreamily disposed might 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


19 


look far out to sea, and behold ships coming and going in 
every variety of shape and size. 

But Aunt Roxy and Aunt Ruey, who for the present 
were sole occupants of the premises, were not people of the 
dreamy kind, and consequently were not gazing off to sea, 
but attending to very terrestrial matters that in all cases 
somebody must attend to. The afternoon was warm and 
balmy, but a few smouldering sticks were kept in the great 
chimney, and thrust deep into the embers was a mongrel 
species of snub-nosed tea-pot, which fumed strongly of cat- 
nip-tea, a little of which gracious beverage Miss Roxy 
was preparing in an old-fashioned cracked India china 
tea-cup, tasting it as she did so with the air of a connois- 
seur. 

Apparently this was for the benefit of a small something 
in long white clothes, that lay face downward under a little 
blanket of very blue new flannel, and which something Aunt 
Roxy, when not otherwise engaged, constantly patted with a 
gentle tattoo, in tune to the steady trot of her knee. 

All babies knew Miss Roxy’s tattoo on their backs, and 
never thought of taking it in ill part. On the contrary, it 
had a vital and mesmeric effect of sovereign force against 
colic, and all other disturbers of the nursery ; and never 
was infant known so pressed with those internal troubles 
which infants cry about, as not speedily to give over and 
sink to slumber at this soothing appliance. 

At a little distance sat Aunt Ruey, with a quantity of 
black crape strewed on two chairs about her, very busily 
employed in getting up a mourning-bonnet, at which she 
snipped, and clipped, aud worked, zealously singing, in a 
high cracked voice, from time to time, certain verses of a 
funeral psalm. 


20 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Miss Roxy and Miss Ruey Toothacre were two brisk old 
bodies of the feminine gender and singular number, well 
known in all the region of Harpswell Neck and Middle 
Bay, and such was their fame that it had even reached the 
town of Brunswick, eighteen miles away. 

They were of that class of females who might be denomi- 
nated, in the Old Testament language, “ cunning women,” — 
that is, gifted with an infinite diversity of practical “ faculty,” 
which made them an essential requisite in every family for 
miles and miles around. 

It was impossible to say what they could not do: they 
could make dresses, and make shirts and vests and panta- 
loons, and cut out boys’ jackets, and braid straw, and bleach 
and trim bonnets, and cook and wash, and iron and mend, 
could upholster and quilt, could nurse all kinds of sick- 
nesses, and in. default of a doctor, who was often miles away, 
were supposed to be infallible medical oracles. 

Many a human being had been ushered into life under 
their auspices, — trotted, chirruped in babyhood on their 
knees, clothed by their handiwork in garments gradually 
enlarging from year to year, watched by them in the last 
sickness, and finally arrayed for the long repose by their 
hands. 

These universally useful persons receive among us the 
title of “aunt” by a sort of general consent, showing the 
strong ties of relationship which bind them to the whole 
human family. They are nobody’s aunts in particular, but 
aunts to human nature generally. The idea of restricting 
their usefulness to any one family, would strike dismay 
through a whole community. 

Nobody would be so unprincipled as to think of such a 
thing as having their services more than a week or two at 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


21 


most. Your country factotum knows better than anybody 
else how absurd it would be 

“To give to a part what was meant for mankind.” 

Nobody knew very well the ages of these useful sisters. 
In that cold, clear, severe climate of the North the roots of 
human existence are hard to strike ; but, if once people do 
take to living, they come in time to a place where they seem 
never to grow any older, but can always be found, like last 
year’s mullein stalks, upright, dry, and seedy, warranted to 
last for any length of time. 

Miss Roxy Toothacre, who sits trotting the baby, is a tall, 
thin, angular woman, with sharp black eyes, and hair once 
black, but now well streaked with gray. These ravages of 
time, however, were concealed by an ample mohair frisette 
of glossy blackness woven on each side into a heap of stiff 
little curls, which pushed up her cap border in rather a 
bristling and decisive way. 

In all her movements and personal habits, even to her 
tone of voice and manner of speaking, Miss Roxy was vig- 
orous, spicy, and decided. Her mind on all subjects was 
made up, and she spoke generally as one having authority ; 
and who should , if she should not? Was she not a sort of 
priestess and sibyl in all the most awful straits and mysteries 
of life ? How many births, and weddings, and deaths had 
come and gone under her jurisdiction? And amid weeping 
or rejoicing, was not Miss Roxy still the master-spirit, — 
consulted, referred to by all ? — was not her word law and 
precedent ? Her younger sister, Miss Ruey, a pliant, cosey, 
easy-to-be-entreated personage, plump and cushiony, revolved 
around her as a humble satellite. Miss Roxy looked on 
Miss Ruey as quite a frisky young thing, though under her 


22 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


ample frisette of carroty hair her head might be seen white 
with the same snow that had powdered that of her sister. 
Aunt Ruey had a face much resembling the kind of one you 
may see, reader, by looking at yourself in the convex side of 
a silver milk-pitcher. If you try the experiment, this de- 
scription will need no further amplification. 

The two almost always went together, for the variety of 
talent comprised in their stock could always find employ- 
ment in the varying wants of a family. While one nursed 
the sick, the other made clothes for the well ; and thus they 
were always chippering and chatting to each other, like a 
pair of antiquated house-sparrows, retailing over harmless 
gossips, and moralizing in that gentle jog-trot which befits 
serious old women. In fact, they had talked over every- 
thing in Nature, and said everything they could think of to 
each other so often, that the opinions of one were as like 
those of the other as two sides of a pea-pod. But as often 
happens in cases of the sort, this was not because the two 
were in all respects exactly alike, but because the stronger 
one had mesmerized the weaker into consent. 

Miss Roxy was the master-spirit of the two, and, like the 
great coining machine of a mint, came down with her own 
sharp, heavy stamp on every opinion her sister put out. 
She was matter-of-fact, positive, and declarative to the high- 
est degree, while her sister was naturally inclined to the 
elegiac and the pathetic, indulging herself in sentimental 
poetry, and keeping a store thereof in her thread-case, 
which she had cut from the Christian Mirror . Miss Roxy 
sometimes, in her brusque way, popped out observations on 
life and things, with a droll, hard quaintness that took one’s 
breath a little, yet never failed to have a sharp crystalliza- 
tion of truth, — frosty though it were. She was one of those 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


23 


sensible, practical creatures who tear every veil, and lay 
their fingers on every spot in pure business-like good-will ; 
and if we shiver at them at times, as at the first plunge of 
a cold bath, we confess to ail invigorating power in them 
after all. 

“ Well, now,” said Miss Roxy, giving a decisive push to 
the tea-pot, which buried it yet deeper in the embers, “ a’n’t 
it all a strange kind o’ providence that this ’ere little thing 
is left behind so ; and then their callin’ on her by such a 
strange, mournful kind of name, — Mara. I thought sure 
as could be ’t was Mary, till the minister read the passage 
from Scriptur’. Seems to me it ’s kind o’ odd. I ’d call it 
Maria, or I ’d put an Ann on to it. Mara-ann, now, would n’t 
sound so strange.” 

“ It ’s a Scriptur’ name, sister,” said Aunt Ruey, “ and that 
ought to be enough for us.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” said Aunt Roxy. “Now there 
was Miss Jones down on Mure P’int called her twins 
Tiglath-Pileser and Shalmaneser, — Scriptur’ names both, 
but I never liked ’em. The boys used to call ’em Tiggy 
and Shally, so no mortal could guess they was Scriptur’.” 

“ Well,” said Aunt Ruey, drawing a sigh which caused 
her , plump proportions to be agitated in gentle waves, 
“*t a’n’t much matter, after all, what they call the little 
thing, for ’t a’n’t ’tall likely it’s goin’ to live, — cried and 
worried all night, and kep’ a-suckin’ my cheek and my 
night-gown, poor little thing ! This ’ere’s a baby that won’t 
get along without its mother. What Mis’ Pennel ’s a-goin’ 
to do with it when we is gone, I ’m sure I don’t know. It 
comes kind o’ hard on old people to be broke o’ their rest. 
If it ’s goin’ to be called home, it ’s a pity, as I said, it did n’t 
go with its mother ” 


24 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ And save the expense of another funeral,” said Aunt 
Roxy. “Now when Mis’ Pennel’s sister asked her what 
she was going to do with Naomi’s clothes, I could n’t help 
wonderin’ when she said she should keep ’em for the 
child.” 

“ She had a sight of things, Naomi did,” said Aunt Ruey. 
“ Nothin’ was never too much for her. I don’t believe that 
Cap’n Pennel ever went to Bath or Portland without havin’ 
it in his mind to bring Naomi somethin’.” 

“ Yes, and she had a faculty of puttin’ of ’em on,” said 
Miss Roxy, with a decisive shake of the head. “ Naomi 
was a still girl, but her faculty was uncommon ; and I tell 
you, Ruey, ’t a’n’t everybody hes faculty as hes things.” 

“ The poor Cap’n,” said Miss Ruey, “ he seemed greatly 
supported at the funeral, but he ’s dreadful broke down since. 
I went into Naomi’s room this morning, and there the old 
man was a-sittin’ by her bed, and he had a pair of her shoes 
in his hand, — you know what a leetle bit of a foot she had. 
I never saw nothin’ look so kind o’ solitary as that poor old 
man did ! ” 

“ Well,” said Miss Roxy, “ she was a master-hand for 
keepin’ things, Naomi was ; her drawers is just a sight ; 
she ’s got all the little presents and things they ever give 
her since she was a baby, in one drawer. There ’s a little 
pair of red shoes there that she had when she wa’ n’t more ’n 
five year old. You ’member, Ruey, the Cap’n brought ’m 
over from Portland when we was to the house a-makin’ Mis’ 
Pennel’s figured black silk that he brought from Calcutty. 
You ’member they cost just five and sixpence ; but, law ! the 
Cap’n he never grudged the money when ’t was for Naomi. 
And so she ’s got all her husband’s keepsakes and things, 
just as nice as when he giv’ ’em to her.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


25 


“ It ’s real affectin’,” said Miss Ruey, “ I can’t all the 
while help a-thinkin’ of the Psalm, — 

‘So fades the lovely blooming flower, — 

Frail, smiling solace of an hour; 

So quick our transient comforts fly, 

And pleasure only blooms to die.’ ” 

# 

“ Yes,” said Miss Roxy ; “ and, Ruey, I was a-thinkin’ 
whether or no it wa’ n’t best to pack away them things, 
’cause Naomi had n’t fixed no baby drawers, and we seem 
to want some.” 

“ I was kind o’ hintin’ that to Mis’ Pennel this morn- 
ing,” said Ruey, “ but she can’t seem to want to have ’em 
touched.” 

“Well we may just as well come to such things first as 
last,” said Aunt Roxy ; “ ’cause if the Lord takes our 
friends, he does take ’em ; and we can’t lose ’em and 
have ’em too, and we may as well give right up at first, 
and done with it, that they are gone, and we ’v’ got to do 
without ’em, and not to be hangin’ on to keep things just 
as they was.” 

“ So I was a-tellin’ Mis’ Pennel,” said Miss Ruey, “ but 
she ’ll come to it by and by. I wish the baby might live, and 
kind o’ grow up into her mother’s place.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Roxy, “ I wish it might, but there ’d be 
■d sight o’ trouble fetchin’ on it up. Folks can do pretty well 
with children when they ’re young and spry, if they do get 
em up nights ; but come to grandchildren, it ’s pretty tough.” 

“ I ’m a-thinkin’, sister,” said Miss Ruey, taking off her 
spectacles and rubbing her nose thoughtfully, “ whether or 
no cow’s milk a’n’t goin’ to be too hearty for it, it ’s such a 
pindlin’ little thing. Now, Mis’ Badger she brought up a 
seven-months’ child, and she told me she gave it nothin’ 
2 


26 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


but these ’ere little seed cookies, wet in water, and it throve 
nicely, — and the seed is good for wind.” 

u Oh, don’t tell me none of Mis’ Badger’s stories,” said 
Miss Roxy, “ I don’t believe in ’em. Cows is the Lord’s 
ordinances for bringing up babies that ’s lost their mothers ; 
it stands to reason they should be, — and babies that can’t 
eat milk, why they can’t be fetched up ; but babies can 
eat milk, and this un will if it lives, and if it can’t it won’t 
live.” So saying, Miss Roxy drummed away on the little 
back of the party in question, authoritatively, as if to pound 
in a wholesome conviction at the outset. 

“ I hope,” said Miss Ruey, holding up a strip of black 
crape, and looking through it from end to end so as to test 
its capabilities, “ I hope the Cap’n and Mis’ Pennel ’ll get 
some support at the prayer-meetin’ this afternoon.” 

“ It ’s the right place to go to,” said Miss Roxy, with 
decision. 

“ Mis’ Pennel said this mornin’ that she was just beat out 
tryin’ to submit ; and the more she said, ‘ Thy will be done,’ 
the more she did n’t seem to feel it.” 

“ Them ’s common feelin’s among mourners, Ruey. These 
’ere forty years that I ’ve been round nussin’, and layin’-out, 
and tendin’ funerals, I ’ve watched people’s exercises. Peo- 
ple ’s sometimes supported wonderfully just at the time, and 
maybe at the funeral ; but the three or four weeks after, most 
everybody, if they ’s to say what they feel, is unreconciled.” 

“ The Cap’n, he don’t say nothin’,” said Miss Ruey. 

“ No, he don’t, but he looks it in his eyes,” said Miss 
Roxy ; “ he ’s one of the kind o’ mourners as takes it deep ; 
that kind don’t cry ; it ’s a kind o’ dry, deep pain ; them ’s 
the worst to get over it, — sometimes they just says nothin’, 
and in about six months they send for you to nuss ’em in 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


27 


consumption or somethin’. Now, Mis’ Pennel, she can cry 
and she can talk, — well, she ’ll get over it ; but he won’t get 
no support unless the Lord reaches right down and lifts him 
up over the world. I ’ve seen that happen sometimes, and I 
tell you, Ruey, that sort makes powerful Christians.” 

At that moment the old pair entered the door. 

Zephaniah Pennel came and stood quietly by the pillow 
where the little form was laid, and lifted a corner of the 
blanket. The tiny head was turned to one side, showing 
the soft, warm cheek, and the little hand was holding tightly 
a morsel of the flannel blanket. He stood swallowing hard 
for a few moments. At last he said, with deep humility, to 
the wise and mighty woman who held her, “ I ’ll tell you 
what it is, Miss Roxy, I ’ll give all there is in my old chest 
yonder if you ’ll only make her — live.” 


28 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER V. 

It did live. The little life, so frail, so unprofitable in 
every mere material view, so precious in the eyes of love, 
expanded and flowered at last into fair childhood. Not 
without much watching and weariness. Many a night the 
old fisherman walked the floor with the little thing in his 
arms, talking to it that jargon of tender nonsense which 
fairies bring as love-gifts to all who tend a cradle. Many 
a day the good little old grandmother called the aid of 
gossips about her, trying various experiments of catnip, 
and sweet fern, and bayberry, and other teas of rustic 
reputation for baby frailties. 

At the end of three years, the two graves in the lonely 
graveyard were sodded and cemented down by smooth vel- 
vet turf, and playing round the door of the brown house was 
a slender child, with ways and manners so still and singular 
as often to remind the neighbors that she was not like other 
children, — a bud of hope and joy, — but the outcome of a 
great sorrow, — a pearl washed ashore by a mighty, uproot- 
ing tempest. They that looked at her remembered that her 
father’s eye had never beheld her, and her baptismal cup 
had rested on her mother’s coffin. 

She was small of stature, beyond the wont of children of 
her age, and moulded with a fine waxen delicacy that won 
admiration from all eyes. Her hair was curly and golden, 
but her eyes were dark like her mother’s, and the lids 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


29 


drooped over them in that manner which gives a peculiar 
expression of dreamy wistfulness. 

Every one of us must remember eyes that have a strange, 
peculiar expression of pathos and desire, as if the spirit 
that looked out of them were pressed with vague remem- 
brances of a past, or but dimly comprehended the mystery of 
its present life. Even when the baby lay in its cradle, and 
its dark, inquiring eyes would follow now one object and 
now another, the gossips would say the child was longing for 
something, and Miss Roxy would still further venture to 
predict that that child always would long and never would 
know exactly what she was after. 

That dignitary sits at this minute enthroned in the kitchen 
corner, looking majestically over the press-board on her 
knee, where she is pressing the next year’s Sunday vest of 
Zephaniah Pennel. As she makes her heavy tailor’s goose 
squeak on the work, her eyes follow the little delicate fairy 
form which trips about the kitchen, busily and silently ar- 
ranging a little grotto of gold and silver shells and sea-weed. 
The child sings to herself as she works in a low chant, like 
the prattle of a brook, but ever and anon she rests her little 
arms on a chair and looks through the open kitchen-door 
far, far off where the horizon line of the blue sea dissolves in 
the blue sky. 

“See that child now, Roxy,” said Miss Ruey, who sat 
stitching beside her ; “ do look at her eyes. She ’s as hand- 
some as a pictur’, but ’t a’n’t an ordinary look she has 
^neither ; she seems a contented little thing ; but what makes 
her eyes always look so kind o’ wishful ? ” 

“ Wa’ n’t her mother always a-longin’ and a-lookin’ to sea, 
and wat^hin’ the ships, afore she was born ? ” said Miss 
Roxy; “and didn’t her heart break afore she was born? 


30 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Babies like that is marked always. They don’t know what 
ails ’em, nor nobody.” 

“ It ’s her mother she ’s after ? ” said Miss Ruey. 

“ The Lord only knows,” said Miss Roxy ; “but them 
kind o’ children always seem homesick to go back where 
they come from. They ’re mostly grave and old-fashioned 
like this ’un. If they gets past seven years, why they live ; 
but it ’s always in ’em to long ; they don’t seem to be really 
unhappy neither, but if anything ’s ever the matter with 
’em, it seems a great deal easier for ’em to die than to live. 
Some say it ’s the mothers longin’ after ’em makes ’em feel 
so, and some say it ’s them longin’ after their mothers ; but 
dear knows, Ruey, what anything is or what makes any- 
thing. Children ’s mysterious, that ’s my mind.” 

“ Mara, dear,” said Miss Ruey, interrupting the child’s 
steady look-out, “what you thinking of?” 

“ Me want somefin’,” said the little one. 

“ That ’s what she ’s always sayin’,” said Miss Roxy. 

" Me want somebody to pay wis’,” continued the little one. 

“ Want somebody to play with,” said old Dame Pennel, 
as she came in from the back-room with her hands yet 
floury with kneading bread ; “ sure enough, she does. Our 
house stands in such a lonesome place, and there a’n’t any 
children. But I never saw such a quiet little thing — 
always still and always busy.” 

“ I ’ll take her down with me to Cap’n Kittridge’s,” said 
Miss Roxy, “ and let her play with their little girl ; she ’ll 
chirk her up, I’ll warrant. She’s a regular little witch, 
Sally is, but she ’ll chirk her up. It a’n’t good for children 
to be so still and old-fashioned ; children ought to be chil- 
dren. Sally takes to Mara just ’cause she ’s so different.” 

“Well, now, you may,” said Dame Pennel ; “ to be sure, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


31 


he can’t bear her out of his sight a minute after he comes 
in ; but after all, old folks can’t be company for children.” 

Accordingly, that afternoon, the little Mara was arrayed 
in a little blue flounced dress, which stood out like a balloon, 
made by Miss Roxy in first-rate style, from a French fashion- 
plate ; her golden hair was twined in manifold curls by 
Dame Pennel, who, restricted in her ideas of ornamenta- 
tion, spared, nevertheless, neither time nor money to en- 
hance the charms of this single ornament to her dwelling. 
Mara was her picture-gallery, who gave her in the twenty- 
four hours as many Murillos or Greuzes as a lover of art 
could desire ; and as she tied over the child’s golden curls a 
little flat hat, and saw her go dancing off along the sea- 
sands, holding to Miss Roxy’s bony finger, she felt she had 
in her what galleries of pictures could not buy. 

It was a good mile to the one story, gambrel-roofed cot- 
tage where lived Captain Kittridge, — the long, lean, brown 
man, with his good wife of the great Leghorn bonnet, round, 
black bead eyes, and psalm-book, whom we told you of at 
the funeral. 

The Captain, too, had followed the sea in his early life, 
but being not, as he expressed it, “very rugged,” in time 
changed his ship for a tight little cottage on the sea-shore, 
and devoted himself to boat-building, which he found suffi- 
ciently lucrative to furnish his brown cottage with all that 
his wife’s heart desired, besides extra money for knick-knacks 
when she chose to go up to Brunswick or over to Portland 
to shop. 

The Captain himself was a welcome guest at all the fire- 
sides round, being a chatty body, and disposed to make the 
most of his foreign experiences, in which he took the usual 
advantages of a traveller. In fact, it was said, whether 


32 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


slanderously or not, that the Captain’s yarns were spun to 
order ; and as, when pressed to relate his foreign adventures, 
he always responded with, “ What would you like to hear ? ” 
it was thought that he fabricated his article to suit his mar- 
ket. In short, there was no species of experience, finny, 
fishy, or aquatic, — no legend of strange and unaccountable 
incident of fire or flood, — no romance of foreign scenery 
and productions, to which his tongue was not competent, 
when he had once seated himself in a double bow-knot at 
a neighbor’s evening fireside. 

His good wife, a sharp-eyed, literal body, and a vigorous 
church-member, felt some concern of conscience on the score 
of these narrations ; for, being their constant auditor, she, 
better than any one else, could perceive the variations and 
discrepancies of text which showed their mythical character, 
and oftentimes her black eyes would snap and her knitting- 
needles rattle with an admonitory vigor as he went on, and 
sometimes she would unmercifully come in at the end of a 
narrative with, — 

“ Well, now, the Cap’n ’s told them ar stories till he begins 
to b’lieve ’em himself, I think” 

But works of fiction, as we all know, if only well gotten 
up, have always their advantages in the hearts of listeners 
over plain, homely truth ; and so Captain Kittridge’s yarns 
were marketable fireside commodities still, despite the scepti- 
cisms which attended them. 

The afternoon sunbeams at this moment are painting the 
gambrel-roof with a golden brown. It is September again, 
as it was three years ago when our story commenced, and 
the sea and sky are purple and amethystine with its Italian 
haziness of atmosphere. 

The brown house stands on a little knoll, about a hundred 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


33 


yards from the open ocean. Behind it rises a ledge of rocks, 
where cedars and hemlocks make deep shadows into which 
the sun shoots golden shafts of light, illuminating the scarlet 
feathers of the sumach, which threw themselves jauntily 
forth from the crevices ; while down below, in deep, damp, 
mossy recesses, rose ferns which autumn had just begun to 
tinge with yellow and brown. The little knoll where the 
cottage stood, had on its right hand a tiny bay, where the 
ocean water made up amid picturesque rocks — shaggy 
and solemn. Here trees of the primeval forest, grand and 
lordly, looked down silently into the waters which ebbed 
and flowed daily into this little pool. Every variety of 
those beautiful evergreens which feather the coast of 
Maine, and dip their wings in the very spray of its ocean 
foam, found here a representative. There were aspiring 
black spruces, crowned on the very top with heavy coronets 
of cones ; there were balsamic firs, whose young buds 
breathe the scent of strawberries ; there were cedars, blade 
as midnight clouds, and white pines with their swaying 
plumage of needle-like leaves, strewing the ground beneath 
with a golden, fragrant matting ; and there were the gigan- 
tic, wide-winged hemlocks, hundreds of years old, and with 
long, swaying, gray beards of moss, looking white and 
ghostly under the deep shadows of their boughs. And 
beneath, creeping round trunk and matting over stones, 
were many and many of those wild, beautiful things which 
embellish the shadows of these northern forests. Long, 
feathery wreaths of what are called ground-pines, ran here 
and there in little ruflles of green, and the prince’s pine 
raised its oriental feather, with a mimic cone on the top, as 
if it conceived itself to be a grown-up tree. Whole patches 
of partridge-berry wove their evergreen matting, dotted plen- 
2 * 


34 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


tifully with brilliant scarlet berries. Here and there, the 
rocks were covered with a curiously inwoven tapestry of 
moss, overshot with the exquisite vine of the Linnea bore- 
alis, which in early spring rings its two fairy bells on the 
end of every spray ; while elsewhere the wrinkled leaves of 
the mayflower wove themselves through and through deep 
beds of moss, meditating silently thoughts of the thousand 
little cups of pink shell which they had it in hand to 
make when the time of miracles should come round next 
spring. 

Nothing, in short, could be more quaintly fresh, wild, and 
beautiful than the surroundings of this little cove which 
Captain Kittridge had thought fit to dedicate to his boat- 
building operations, — where he had set up his tar-kettle 
between two great rocks above the highest tide-mark, and 
where, at the present moment, he had a boat upon the 
stocks. 

Mrs. Kittridge, at this hour, was sitting in her clean 
kitchen, very busily engaged in ripping up a silk dress, 
which Miss Roxy had engaged to come and make into a 
new one ; and, as she ripped, she cast now and then 
an eye at the face of a tall, black clock, whose solemn 
tick-tock was the only sound that could be heard in the 
kitchen. 

By her side, on a low stool, sat a vigorous, healthy girl 
of six years, whose employment evidently did not please 
her, for her well-marked black eyebrows were bent in a 
frown, and her large black eyes looked surly and wrathful, 
and one versed in children’s grievances could easily see 
what the matter was, — she was turning a sheet ! Perhaps, 
ha PPy yo un g female reader, you don’t know what that is, — 
most likely not ; for in these degenerate days the strait and 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


35 


narrow ways of self-denial, formerly thought so wholesome 
for little feet, are quite grass-grown with neglect. Childhood 
nowadays is unceasingly feted and caressed, the principal 
difficulty of the grown people seeming to be to discover what 
the little dears want, — a thing not always clear to the little 
dears themselves. But in old times, turning sheets was 
thought a most especial and wholesome discipline for young 
girls ; in the first place, because it took off the hands of 
their betters a very uninteresting and monotonous labor ; 
and in the second place, because it was such a long, straight, 
unending turnpike, that the youthful travellers, once started 
thereupon, could go on indefinitely, without requiring guid- 
ance and direction of their elders. For these reasons, also, 
the task was held in special detestation by children in direct 
proportion to their amount of life, and their ingenuity and 
love of variety. A dull child took it tolerably well ; but to 
a lively, energetic one, it was a perfect torture. 

“ I don’t see the use of sewing up sheets one side, and 
ripping up the other,” at last said Sally, breaking the mo- 
notonous tick-tock of the clock by an observation which 
has probably occurred to every child in similar circum- 
stances. 

“ Sally Kittridge, if you say another word about that ar 
sheet, I ’ll whip you,” was the very explicit rejoinder ; and 
there wa.s a snap of Mrs. Kittridge’s black eyes, that seemed 
to make it likely that she would keep her word. It was 
answered by another snap from the six-year-old eyes, as 
Sally comforted herself with thinking that when she was a 
woman she ’d speak her mind out in pay for all this. 

At this moment a burst of silvery child-laughter rang 
out, and there appeared in the door-way, illuminated by the 
afternoon sunbeams, the vision of Miss Roxy’s tall, lank 


36 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


figure, with the little golden-haired, blue-robed fairy, hang- 
ing like a gay butterfly upon the tip of a thorn -bush. Sally 
dropped the sheet and clapped her hands, unnoticed by 
her mother, who rose to pay her respects to the “ cunning 
woman ” of the neighborhood. 

u Well, now, Miss Roxy, I was ’mazin’ afraid you wer’n’t 
a-comin’. I ’d just been an’ got my silk ripped up, and 
did n’t know how to get a step farther without you.” 

“ Well, I was finishin’ up Cap’n Pennel’s best panta- 
loons,” said Miss Roxy ; “ and I ’ve got ’em along so, Ruey 
can go on with ’em ; and I told Mis’ Pennel I must come 
to you, if ’t was only for a day ; and I fetched the little girl 
down, ’cause the little thing ’s so kind o’ lonesome like. I 
thought Sally could play with her, and chirk her up a 
little.” 

“ Well, Sally,” said Mrs. Kittridge, “ stick in your needle, 
fold up your sheet, put your thimble in your work-pocket, 
and then you may take the little Mara down to the cove to 
play ; but be sure you don’t let her go near the tar, nor wet 
her shoes. D’ye hear ? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” said Sally, who had sprung up in light and 
radiance, like a translated creature, at this unexpected turn 
of fortune, and performed the welcome orders with a celerity 
which showed how agreeable they were ; and then, stooping 
and catching the little one in her arms, disappeared through 
the door, with the golden curls fluttering over her own crow- 
black hair. 

The fact was, that Sally, at that moment, was as happy as 
human creature could be, with a keenness of happiness that 
children who have never been made to turn sheets of a bright 
afternoon can never realize. 

The sun was yet an hour high, as she saw, by the flash of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


37 


her shrewd, time-keeping eye, and she could bear her little 
prize down to the cove, and collect unknown quantities of 
gold and silver shells, and star-fish, and salad-dish shells, 
and white pebbles for her, besides quantities of well-turned 
shavings, brown and white, from the pile which constantly 
was falling under her father’s joiner’s bench, and with which 
she would make long extemporaneous tresses, so that they 
might play at being mermaids, like those that she had heard 
her father tell about in some of his sea-stories. 

“ Now, railly, Sally, what you got there ? ” said Captain 
Kittridge, as he stood in his shirt-sleeves peering over his 
joiner’s bench, to watch the little one whom Sally had 
dumped down into a nest of clean white shavings. “ Wal’, 
wal’, I should think you ’d a-stolen the big doll I see in a 
shop-window the last time I was to Portland. So this is 
Pennel’s little girl ? — poor child ! ” 

“ Yes, father, and we want some nice shavings.” 

“ Stay a bit, I ’ll make ye a few a-purpose,” said the old 
man, reaching his long, bony arm, with the greatest ease, to 
the farther part of his bench, and bringing up a board, from 
which he proceeded to roll off shavings in fine satin rings, 
which perfectly delighted the hearts of the children, and 
made them dance with glee; and, truth to say, reader, 
there are coarser and homelier things in the world than 
a well-turned shaving. 

“ There, go now,” he said, when both of them stood with 
both hands full ; “ go now and play ; and mind you don’t let 
the baby wet her feet, Sally ; them shoes o’ hern must have 
cost five-and-sixpence at the very least.” 

That sunny hour before sundown seemed as long to Sally 
as the whole seam of the sheet ; for childhood’s joys are all 
pure gold ; and as she ran up and down the white sands, 


38 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


shouting at every shell she found, or darted up into the 
overhanging forest for checkerberries and ground-pine, all 
the sorrows of the morning came no more into her remem- 
brance. 

The little Mara had one of those sensitive, excitable na- 
tures, on which every external influence acts with immediate 
power. Stimulated by the society of her energetic, buoyant 
little neighbor, she no longer seemed wishful or pensive, but 
kindled into a perfect flame of wild delight, and gambolled 
about the shore like a blue and gold-winged fly ; while her 
bursts of laughter made the squirrels and blue jays look 
out inquisitively from their fastnesses in the old evergreens. 
Gradually the sunbeams faded from the pines, and the waves 
of the tide in the little cove came in, solemnly tinted with 
purple, flaked with orange and crimson, borne in from a 
great rippling sea of fire, into which the sun had just 
sunk. 

“ Mercy on us — them children ! ” said Miss Roxy. 

“ He ’ s bringin’ ’em along,” said Mrs. Kittridge, as she 
looked out of the window and saw the tall, lank form of the 
Captain, with one child seated on either shoulder, and hold- 
ing on by his head. 

The two children were both in the highest state of excite- 
ment, but never was there a more marked contrast of nature. 
The one seemed a perfect type of well-developed childish 
health and vigor, good solid flesh and bones, with glowing 
skin, brilliant eyes, shining teeth, well-knit, supple limbs, — 
vigorously and healthily beautiful ; while the other appeared 
one of those aerial mixtures of cloud and fire, whose radiance 
seems scarcely earthly. A physiologist, looking at the child, 
would shake his head, seeing one of those perilous organiza- 
tions, all nerve and brain, which come to life under the clear, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


39 


stimulating skies of America, and, burning with the intensity 
of lighted phosphorus, waste themselves too early. 

The little Mara seemed like a fairy sprite, possessed with 
a wild spirit of glee. She laughed and clapped her hands 
incessantly, and when set down on the kitchen-floor spun 
round like a little elf ; and that night it was late and long 
before her wide, wakeful eyes could be veiled in sleep. 

“ Company jist sets this ’ere child crazy,” said Miss 
Roxy ; “ it ’s jist her lonely way of livin’ ; a pity Mis’ 
Pennel hadn’t another child to keep company along with 
her.” 

u Mis’ Pennel oughter be trainin’ of her up to work,” said 
Mrs. Kittridge. “ Sally could oversew and hem when she 
wa’ n’t more ’n three years old ; nothin’ straightens out chil- 
dren like work. Mis’ Pennel she jist keeps that ar child to 
look at.” 

“ All children a’n’t alike, Mis’ Kittridge,” said Miss 
Roxy, sententiously. “ This ’un a’n’t like your Sally. ‘ A 
hen and a bumble-bee can’t be fetched up alike, fix it how 
you will ! ’ ” 


40 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Zephaniah Pennel came back to his house in the even- 
ing, after Miss Roxy had taken the little Mara away. He 
looked for the flowery face and golden hair as he came 
towards the door, and put his hand in his vest-pocket, where 
he had deposited a small store of very choice shells and sea 
curiosities, thinking of the widening of those dark, soft eyes 
when he should present them. 

“ Where ’s Mara ? ” was the first inquiry after he had 
crossed the threshold. 

“ Why, Roxy ’s been an’ taken her down to Cap’n Kit- 
tridge’s to spend the night,” said Miss Ruey. “ Roxy ’s 
gone to help Mis’ Kittridge to turn her spotted gray and 
black silk. We was talking this mornin’ whether ’no ’t would 
turn, ’cause I thought the spot was overshot, and would n’t 
make up on the wrong side ; but Roxy she says it ’s one of 
them ar Calcutty silks that has two sides to ’em, like the 
one you bought Miss Pennel, that we made up for her, you 
know ; ” and Miss Ruey arose and gave a finishing snap to 
the Sunday pantaloons, which she had been left to “ finish 
off,” — which snap said, as plainly as words could say that 
there was a good job disposed of. 

Zephaniah stood looking as helpless as animals of the 
male kind generally do when appealed to with such pro- 
lixity on feminine details; in reply to it all, only asked 
meekly, — 

“ Where ’s Mary ? ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


41 


“ Mis’ Pennel ? Why, she’s up chamber. She ’ll be down 
in a minute, she said ; she thought she ’d have time afore 
supper to get to the bottom of the big chist, and see if that 
’ere vest pattern a’n’t there, and them sticks o’ twist for the 
button-holes, ’cause Roxy she says she never see nothin’ so 
rotten as that ’ere twist we V been a-workin’ with, that Mis’ 
Pennel got over to Portland ; it ’s a clear cheat, and Mis’ 
Pennel she give more ’n half a cent a stick more for ’t than 
what Roxy got for her up to Brunswick ; so you see these 
’ere Portland stores charge up, and their things want lookin’ 
after.” 

Here Mrs. Pennel entered the room, “ the Captain ” 
addressing her eagerly, — 

“ How came you to let Aunt Roxy take Mara off so far, 
and be gone so long ? ” 

“ Why, law me, Captain Pennel ! the little thing seems 
kind o’ lonesome. Chil’en want chil’en ; Miss Roxy says 
she ’s altogether too sort o’ still and old-fashioned, and must 
have child’s company to chirk her up, and so she took her 
down to play with Sally Kittridge ; there ’s no manner of 
danger or harm in it, and she ’ll be back to-morrow after- 
noon, and Mara will have a real good time.” 

“ Wal*, now, really,” said the good man, “ but it ’s ’mazin’ 
lonesome.” 

“ Cap’n Pennel, you ’r’ gettin’ to make an idol of that ’ere 
child,” said Miss Ruey. “We have to watch our hearts. 
It minds me of the hymn, — 

‘ The fondness of a creature’s love, 

How strong it strikes the sense, — * 

Thither the warm affections move, 

Nor can we call them thence.’ ” 

Miss Ruey’s mode of getting off poetry, in a sort of high- 


42 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


pitched canter, with a strong thump on every accented sylla- 
ble, might have provoked a smile in more sophisticated 
society, but Zephaniah listened to her with deep gravity, 
and answered, — 

“ I ’m ’fraid there ’s truth in what you say, Aunt Ruey. 
When her mother was called away, I thought that was a 
warning I never should forget ; but now I seem to be like 
Jonah, — I’m restin’ in the shadow of my gourd, and my 
heart is glad because of it. I kind o’ trembled at the 
prayer-meetin’ when we was a-singin’ — 

‘ The dearest idol I have known, 

Whate’er that idol be, 

Help me to tear it from Thy throne, 

And worship only Thee.’ ” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Ruey, “ Roxy says if the Lord should 
take us up short on our prayers, it would make sad work 
with us sometimes.” 

“ Somehow,” said Mrs. Pennel, “ it seems to me just her 
mother over again. She don’t look like her. I think her 
hair and complexion comes from the Badger blood ; my 
mother had that sort o’ hair and skin, — but then she has 
ways like Naomi, — and it seems as if the Lord had kind o’ 
given Naomi back to us ; so I hope she ’s goin to be spared 
to us.” 

Mrs. Pennel had one of those natures — gentle, trustful, 
and hopeful, because not very deep ; she was one of the 
little children of the world whose faith rests on childlike 
ignorance, and who know not the deeper needs of deeper 
natures ; such see only the sunshine and forget the storm. 

This conversation had been going on to the accompani- 
ment of a clatter of plates and spoons and dishes, and the 
fizzling of sausages, prefacing the evening meal, to which 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


43 


all now sat dowii after a lengthened grace from Zepha- 
niah. 

“ There ’s a tremendous gale a-brewin’,” he said as they 
sat at table. “ I noticed the clouds to-night as I was cornin’ 
home, and somehow I felt kind o’ as if I wanted all our 
folks snug in-doors.” 

“ Why law, husband, Cap’n Kittridge’s house is as good 
as ours, if it does blow. You never can seem to remember 
that houses don’t run aground or strike on rocks in storms.” 

“ The Cap’n puts me in mind of old Cap’n Jeduth Scran- 
ton,” said Miss Ruey, “ that built that queer house down by 
Middle Bay. The Cap’n he would insist on havin’ on’t jist 
like a ship, and the closet-shelves had holes for the tumblers 
and dishes, and he had all his tables and chairs battened 
down, and so when it came a gale, they say the old Cap’n 
used to sit in his chair and hold on to hear the wind blow.” 

“Well, I tell you,” said Captain Pennel, “those that has 
followed the seas hears the wind with different ears from 
lands-people. When you lie with only a plank between you 
and eternity, and hear the voice of the Lord on the waters, 
it don’t sound as it does on shore.” 

And in truth, as they were speaking, a fitful gust swept 
by the house, wailing and screaming and rattling the win- 
dows, and after it came the heavy, hollow moan of the surf 
on the beach, like the wild, angry howl of some savage ani- 
mal just beginning to be lashed into fury. 

“ Sure enough the wind is rising,” said Miss Ruey, getting 
up from the table, and flattening her snub nose against the 
window-pane. “ Dear me, how dark it is ! Mercy on us, 
how the waves come in ! — all of a sheet of foam. I pity 
the ships that ’s cornin’ on coast such a night.” 

The storm seemed to have burst out with a sudden fury, 


44 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


as if myriads of howling demons had all at once been loos- 
ened in the air. Now they piped and whistled with eldritch 
screech round the corners of the house — now they thun- 
dered down the chimney — and now they shook the door 
and rattled the casement — and anon mustering their forces 
with wild ado, seemed to career over the house, and sail 
high up into the murky air. The dash of the rising tide 
came with successive crash upon crash like the discharge of 
heavy artillery, seeming to. shake the very house, and the 
spray borne by the wind dashed whizzing against the win- 
dow-panes. 

Zephaniah, rising from supper, drew up the little stand 
that had the family Bible on it, and the three old time-worn 
people sat themselves as seriously down to evening worship 
as if they had been an extensive congregation. They raised 
the old psalm-tune which our fathers called “ Complaint,” 
and the cracked, wavering voices of the women, with the 
deep, rough bass of the old sea-captain, rose in the uproar 
of the storm with a ghostly, strange wildness, like the 
scream of the curlew or the wailing of the wind : — 

“ Spare us, 0 Lord, aloud we pray, 

Nor let our sun go down at noon: 

Thy years are an eternal day, 

And must thy children die so soon?” 

Miss Ruey valued herself on singing a certain weird and 
exalted part which in ancient days used to be called counter, 
and which wailed and gyrated in unimaginable heights of 
the scale, much as you may hear a shrill, fine-voiced wind 
over a chimney-top ; but altogether^the deep and earnest 
gravity with which the three filled up the pauses in the 
storm with their quaint minor key, had something singularly 
impressive. When the singing was over, Zephaniah read, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


45 


to the accompaniment of wind and sea, the words of poetry 
made on old Hebrew shores, in the dim, gray dawn of the 
world : — 

“ The voice of the Lord is upon the waters ; the God of 
glory thundereth ; the Lord is upon many waters. The 
voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness ; the Lord shaketh 
the wilderness of Kadesh. The Lord sitteth upon the floods, 
yea, the Lord sitteth King forever. The Lord will give 
strength to his people ; yea, the Lord will bless his people 
with peace.” 

How natural and home-born sounded this old piece of 
Oriental poetry in the ears of the three ! The wilderness of 
Kadesh, with its great cedars, was doubtless Orr’s Island, 
where even now the goodly fellowship of black-winged trees 
were groaning and swaying, and creaking as the breath of 
the Lord passed over them. 

And the three old people kneeling by their smouldering 
fireside, amid the general uproar, Zephaniah began in the 
words of a prayer which Moses the man of God made long 
ago under the shadows of Egyptian pyramids : “ Lord, thou 
hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the 
mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed 
the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlast- 
ing, thou art God.” 

We hear sometimes in these days that the Bible is no 
more inspired of God than many other books of historic and 
poetic merit. It is a fact, however, that the Bible answers 
a strange and wholly exceptional purpose by thousands of 
firesides on all shores of the earth ; and, till some other book 
can be found to do the same thing, it will not be surprising 
if a belief of its Divine origin be one of the ineffaceable ideas 
of the popular mind. 


46 ‘ 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


It will be a long while before a translation from Homer, 
or a chapter in the Koran, or any of the beauties of Shak- 
speare, will be read in a stormy night on Orr’s Island with 
the same sense of a Divine presence as the Psalms of David, 
or the prayer of Moses the man of God. 

Boom ! boom ! w What ’s that ? ” said Zephaniah, start- 
ing, as they rose up from prayer. “ Hark ! again, that ’s a 
gun, — there’s a ship in distress.” 

“ Poor souls,” said Miss Ruey ; “ it ’s an awful night ! ” 

The captain began to put on his sea-coat. 

“ You a’n’t a-goin’ out ? ” said his wife. • 

“ I must go out along the beach a spell, and see if I can 
hear any more of that ship.” 

“ Mercy on us ; the wind ’ll blow you over ! ” said Aunt 
Ruey. 

“ I rayther think I ’ve stood wind before in my day,” said 
Zephaniah, a grim smile stealing over his weather-beaten 
cheeks. In fact, the man felt a sort of secret relationship 
to the storm, as if it were in some manner a family connec- 
tion — a wild, roystering cousin, who drew him out by a 
rough attraction of comradeship.” 

“ Well, at any rate,” said Mrs. Pennel, producing a large 
tin lantern perforated with many holes, in which she placed 
a tallow candle, “take this with you, and don’t stay out 
long.” 

The kitchen-door opened, and the first gust of wind took 
off the old man’s hat and nearly blew him prostrate. He 
came back and shut the door. “ I ought to have known bet- 
ter,” he said, knotting his pocket-handkerchief over his head, 
after which he waited for a momentary lull, and went out 
into the storm. 

Miss Ruey looked through the window-pane, and saw the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


47 


light go twinkling far down into the gloom, and ever and 
anon came the mournful boom of distant guns. 

“ Certainly there is a ship in trouble somewhere,” she 
said. 

“ He never can be easy when he hears these gun£,” said 
Mrs. Pennel ; “ but what can he do, or anybody, in such a 
storm, the wind blowing right on to shore ? ” 

“ I should n’t wonder if Cap’n Kittridge should be out on 
the beach, too,” said Miss Huey ; “ but laws, he a’n’t much 
more than one of these ’ere old grasshoppers you see after 
frost comes. Well, any way, there a’n’t much help in man 
if a ship comes ashore in such a gale as this, such a dark 
night too.” 

“ It ’s kind o’ lonesome to have poor little Mara away 
such a night as this is,” said Mrs. Pennel ; “ but who 
would a-thought it this afternoon, when Aunt Roxy took 
her ? ” 

“ I ’member my grandmother had a silver cream-pitcher 
that come ashore in a storm on Mare P’int,” said Miss Ruey, 
as she sat trotting her knitting-needles. “ Grand’ ther found 
it, half full of sand, under knot of sea-weed way up on 
the beach. It had a coat of arms on it, — might have be- 
longed to some grand family, that pitcher ; in the Toothacre 
family yet.” 

“ I remember when I was a girl,” said Mrs. Pennel, 
“ seeing the hull of a ship that went on Eagle Island — 
it run way up in a sort of gully between two rocks, and 
lay there years. They split pieces off it sometimes to make 
fires when they wanted to make a chowder down on the 
beach.” 

“ My aunt, Lois Toothacre, that lives down by Middle 
Bay,” said Miss Ruey, “ used to tell about a dreadful blow 


48 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

they had once in time of the equinoctial storm, — and 
what was remarkable, she insisted that she heard a baby 
cry in’ out in the storm — she heard it just as plain as 
could be.” 

u Laws a-mercy,” said Mrs. Pennel, nervously, “ it was 
nothing but the wind, — it always screeches like a child 
crying ; or maybe it was the seals ; seals will cry just like 
babes.” 

“ So they told her, — • but no ; she insisted she knew the 
difference, — it was a baby. Well, what do you think, when 
the storm cleared off, they found a baby’s cradle washed 
ashore sure enough ! ” 

“ But they did n’t find any baby,” said Mrs. Pennel, 
nervously. 

“ No, they searched the beach far and near, and that 
cradle was all they found. Aunt Lois took it in — it was 
a very good cradle, and she took it to use, but every time 
there came up a gale, that ar cradle would rock, rock, jist as 
if somebody was a-sittin’ by it ; and you could stand across 
the room and see there wa’ n’t nobody there.” 

“ You make me all of a shiver,” said Mrs. Pennel. 

This, of course, was just what Miss Ruey intended, and 
she went on : — 

“ Wal’, you see they kind o’ got used to it — they found 
there wa’ n’t no harm come of its rockin’, and so they did n’t 
mind ; but Aunt Lois had a sister Cerinthy that was a 
weakly girl, and had the janders. Cerinthy was one of 
the sort that ’s born with veils over their faces, and can see 
sperits ; and one time Cerinthy was a-visitin’ Lois after her 
second baby was born, and there came up a blow, and Cerin- 
thy comes out of the keepin’-room, where the cradle was 
a-standin’, and says , 4 Sister,’ says she, ‘ who ’s that woman 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


49 


sittin’ rockin’ the cradle ? ’ and Aunt Lois says she, ‘ Why, 
there a’n’t nobody. That ar cradle always will rock in a 
gale, but I’ve got used to it, and don’t mind it.’ ‘Well,’ 
says Cerinthy, ‘ jist as true as you live, I jist saw a woman 
with a silk gown on, and long black hair a-hangin’ down, and 
her face was pale as a sheet, sittin’ rockin’ that ar cradle, 
and she looked round at me with her great black eyes kind 
o’ mournful and wishful, and then she stooped down over the 
cradle.’ ‘Well,’ says Lois, ‘I a’n’t goin’ to have no such 
doin’s in my house,’ and she went right in and took up the 
baby, and the very next day she jist had the cradle split up 
for kindlin’ ; and that night, if you ’ll believe, when they 
was a-burnin’ of it, they heard, jist as plain as could be, a 
baby scream, scream, screamin’ round the house ; but after 
that they never heard it no more.” 

“ I don’t like such stories,” said Dame Pennel, “ ’specially 
to-night when Mara’s away. I shall get to hearing all 
sorts of noises in the wind. I wonder when Cap’n Pennel 
will be back.” 

And the good woman put more wood on the fire, and as 
the tongues of flame streamed up high and clear, she ap- 
proached her face to the window-pane and started back with 
half a scream, as a pale, anxious visage with sad dark eyes 
seemed to approach her. It took a moment or two for her 
to discover that she had seen only the reflection of her own 
anxious, excited face, the pitchy blackness without having 
eonverted the window into a sort of dark mirror. 

Miss Ruey meanwhile began solacing herself by singing, 
in her chimney-corner, a very favorite sacred melody, 
which contrasted oddly enough with the driving storm and 

howling sea : — ' 

3 


50 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Haste, my beloved, haste away, 

Cut short the hours of thy delay; 

Fly like the bounding hart or roe, 

Over the hills where spices grow.” 

The tune was called “ Invitation ” — one of those pro- 
fusely florid in runs, and trills, and quavers, which delighted 
the ears of a former generation ; and Miss Huey, innocently 
unconscious of the effect of old age on her voice, ran them * 
up and down, and out and in, in a way that would have 
made a laugh, had there been anybody there to notice or 
to laugh. 

“ I remember singin’ that ar to Mary Jane Wilson the 
very night she died,” said Aunt Ruey, stopping. “ She 
wanted me to sing to her, and it was jist between two and 
three in the mornin’ ; there was jist the least red streak of 
daylight, and I opened the window and sat there and sung, 
and when I come to ‘ over the hills where spices grow,’ I 
looked round and there was a change in Mary Jane, and I 
went to the bed, and says she very bright, ‘ Aunt Ruey, the 
Beloved has come,’ and she was gone afore I could raise her 
up on her pillow. I always think of Mary Jane at them 
words ; if ever there was a broken-hearted crittur took 
home, it was her.” 

At this moment Mrs. Pennel caught sight through the 
window of the gleam of the returning lantern, and in a 
moment Captain Pennel entered dripping with rain and 
spray. 

“ Why Cap’n ! you ’re e’en a’most drowned,” said Aunt 
Ruey. 

“ How long have you been gone ? You must have been 
a great ways,” said Mrs. Pennel. 

“ Yes, I have been down to Cap’n Kittridge’s. I met 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


51 


Kittridge out on the beach. We heard the guns plain 
enough, but could n’t see anything. I went on down to 
Kittridge’s to get a look at little Mara.” 

“ Well, she ’s all well enough ? ” said Mrs. Pennel, 
anxiously. 

“ Oh, yes, well enough. Miss Roxy showed her to me in 
the trundle-bed, ’long with Sally. The little thing was lying 
smiling in her sleep, with her cheek right up against Sally’s. 
I took comfort looking at her. I could n’t help thinking, 
4 So he giveth his beloved sleep ! ’ ” 


52 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER VII. 

During the night and storm, the little Mara had lain 
sleeping as quietly as if the cruel sea, that had made her an 
orphan from her birth, were her kind-tempered old grand- 
father singing her to sleep, as he often did, — with a 
somewhat hoarse voice truly, but with ever an undertone 
of protecting love. 

But toward daybreak, there came very clear and bright 
into her childish mind a dream, having that vivid distinct- 
ness which often characterizes the dreams of early childhood. 

She thought she saw before her the little cove where she 
and Sally had been playing the day before, with its broad 
sparkling white beach of sand curving round its blue sea- 
mirror, and studded thickly with gold and silver shells. 
She saw the boat of Captain Kittridge upon the stocks, 
and his tar-kettle with the smouldering fires flickering under 
it ; but, as often happens in dreams, a certain rainbow viv- 
idness and clearness invested everything, and she and 
Sally were jumping for joy at the beautiful things they 
found on the beach. 

Suddenly, there stood before them a woman, dressed in a 
long white garment. She was very pale, with sweet, serious 
dark eyes, and she led by the hand a black-eyed boy, who 
seemed to be crying and looking about as for something 
lost. She dreamed that she stood still, and the woman came 
toward her, looking at her with sweet, sad eyes, till the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 53 

child seemed to feel them in every fibre of her frame. The 
woman laid her hand on her head as if in blessing, and then 
put the boy’s hand in hers, and said, “ Take him, Mara, he is 
a playmate for you ; ” and with that the little boy’s face flashed 
out into a merry laugh. The woman faded away, and the 
three children remained playing together, gathering shells 
and pebbles of a wonderful brightness. So vivid was this 
vision, that the little one awoke laughing with pleasure, and 
searched under her pillows for the strange and beautiful 
things that she had been gathering in dreamland. 

“ What ’s Mara looking after ? ” said Sally, sitting up in 
her trundle-bed, and speaking in the patronizing motherly 
tone she commonly used to her little playmate. 

“ All gone, pitty boy — all gone ! ” said the child, looking 
round regretfully, and shaking her golden head ; “ pitty lady 
all gone ! ” 

“ How queer she talks ! ” said Sally, who had awakened 
with the project of building a sheet-house with her fairy neigh- 
bor, and was beginning to loosen the upper sheet and dispose 
the pillows with a view to this species of architecture. 

“ Come, Mara, let ’s make a pretty house ! ” she said. 

“ Pitty boy out dere — out dere ! ” said the little one, 
pointing to the window, with a deeper expression than ever 
of wishfulness in her eyes. 

“ Come, Sally Kittridge, get up this minute 1 ” said the 
voice of her mother, entering the door at this moment ; “ and 
here, put these clothes on to Mara, the child mustn’t run 
round in her best ; it ’s strange, now, Mary Pennel never 
thinks of such things.” 

Sally, who was of an efficient temperament, was prepar- 
ing energetically to second these commands of her mother, 
and endue her little neighbor with a coarse brown stuff 


54 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


dress, somewhat faded and patched, which she herself had 
outgrown when of Mara’s age ; with shoes, which had been 
coarsely made to begin with, and very much battered by 
time; but, quite to her surprise, the child, generally so 
passive and tractable, opposed a most unexpected and des- 
perate resistance to this operation. She began to cry and to 
sob and shake her curly head, throwing her tiny hands out 
in a wild species of freakish opposition, which had, notwith- 
standing, a quaint and singular grace about it, while she 
stated her objections in all the little English at her command. 

“ Mara don’t want — Mara want pitty boo des — and 
pitty shoes.” 

“ Why, was ever anything like it ? ” said Mrs. Kittridge 
to Miss Roxy, as they both were drawn to the door by the 
outcry ; “ here ’s this child won’t have decent every-day 
clothes put on her, — she must be kept dressed up like a 
princess. Now, that ar ’s French calico ! ” said Mrs. Kit- 
tridge, holding up the controverted blue dress, “ and that ar 
never cost a cent under five-and-sixpence a yard ; it takes a 
yard and a half to make it, and it must have been a good 
day’s work to make it up ; call that three-and-sixpence more, 
and with them pearl buttons and thread and all, that ar dress 
never cost less than a dollar and seventy-five, and here she ’s 
goin’ to run out every day in it ! ” 

“ Well, well ! ” said Miss Roxy, who had taken the sob- 
bing fair one in her lap, “ you know, Mis’ Kittridge, this 
’ere ’s a kind o’ pet lamb, an old-folks’ darling, and things be 
with her as they be, and we can’t make her over, and she ’s 
such a nervous little thing we must n’t cross her.” Saying 
which, she proceeded to dress the child in her own clothes. 

“If you had a good large checked apron, I wouldn’t mind 
putting that on her ! ” added Miss Roxy, after she had ar- 
rayed the child. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


55 


“ Here ’ s one,” said Mrs. Kittridge ; “ that may save her 
clothes some.” 

Miss Roxy began to put on the wholesome garment; but, 
rather to h£r mortification, the little fairy began to weep 
again in a most heart-broken manner. 

“ Don’t want che’t apon.” 

“ Why don’t Mara want nice checked apron ? ” said Miss 
Roxy, in that extra cheerful tone by which children are to 
be made to believe they have mistaken their own mind. 

“ Don’t want it! ” with a decided wave of the little hand; 
“ I ’s too pitty to wear che’t apon.” 

“Well! well!” said Mrs. Kittridge, rolling up her eyes, 
“ did I ever ! no, I never did. If there a’n’t depraved na- 
tur’ a-comin’ out early. Well, if she says she ’s pretty now, 
what ’ll it be when she ’s fifteen ? ” 

“ She ’ll learn to tell a lie about it by that time,” said 
Miss Roxy, “ and say she thinks she ’s horrid. The 
child is pretty, and the truth comes uppermost with her 
now.” 

“ Haw ! haw ! haw ! ” burst with a great crash from Cap- 
tain Kittridge, who had come in behind, and stood silently 
listening during this conversation ; “ that ’s musical now ; 
come here, my little maid, you are too pretty for checked 
aprons, and no mistake ; ” and seizing the child in his long 
arms, he tossed her up like a butterfly, while her sunny 
curls shone in the morning light. 

“ There ’s one comfort about the child, Miss Kittridge,” 
said Aunt Roxy ; “ she ’s one of them that dirt won’t stick 
to. I never knew her to stain or tear her clothes, — she 
always come in jist so nice.” 

“ She a’n’t much like Sally, then ! ” said Mrs. Kittridge. 
“ That girl ’ll run through more clothes ! Only last week 


56 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


she walked the crown out of my old black straw bonnet, 
and left it hanging on the top of a blackberry-bush.” 

“ Wal’, wal’,” said Captain Kittridge, “ as to dressin’ this 
’ere child, — why, ef Pennel ’s a mind to dress her in cloth 
of gold, it ’s none of our business ! He ’s rich enough for 
all he wants to do, and so let ’s eat our breakfast and mind 
our own business.” 

After breakfast Captain Kittridge took the two children 
down to the cove, to investigate the state of his boat and 
tar-kettle, set high above the highest tide-mark. 

The sun had risen gloriously, the sky was of an intense, 
vivid blue, and only great snowy islands of clouds, lying in 
silver banks on the horizon, showed vestiges of last night’s 
storm. The whole wide sea was one glorious scene of form- 
ing and dissolving mountains of blue and purple, breaking 
at the crest into brilliant silver. All round the island the 
waves were constantly leaping and springing into jets and 
columns of brilliant foam, throwing themselves high up, in 
silvery cataracts, into the very arms of the solemn evergreen 
forests which overhung the shore. 

The sands of the little cove seemed harder and whiter 
than ever, and were thickly bestrewn with the shells and 
sea-weed which the upturnings of the night had brought in. 
There lay what might have been fringes and fragments of 
sea-gods’ vestures, — blue, crimson, purple, and orange sea- 
weeds, wreathed in tangled ropes of kelp and sea-grass, or 
lying separately scattered on the sands. The children ran 
wildly, shouting as they began gathering sea-treasures ; and 
Sally, with the air of an experienced hand in the business, 
untwisted the coils of ropy sea-weed, from which every 
moment she disengaged some new treasure, in some rarer 
shell or smoother pebble. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


57 


Suddenly, the child shook out something from a knotted 
mass of sea-grass, which she held up with a perfect shriek 
of delight. 

It was a bracelet of hair, fastened by a brilliant clasp 
of green, sparkling stones, such as she had never seen be- 
fore. 

She redoubled her cries of delight, as she saw it sparkle 
between her and the sun, calling upon her father. 

“ F ather ! father ! do come here, and see what I ’ve 
found ! ” 

He came quickly, and took the bracelet from the child’s 
hand ; but, at the same moment, looking over her head, he 
caught sight of an object partially concealed behind a pro- 
jecting rock. He took a step forward, and uttered an 
exclamation, — 

“ Well, well ! sure enough ! poor things ! ” 

There lay, bedded in sand and sea-weed, a woman with a 
little boy clasped in her arms ! Both had been carefully 
lashed to a spar, but the child was held to the bosom of the 
woman, with a pressure closer than any knot that mortal 
hands could tie. 

Both w T ere deep sunk in the sand, into which had streamed 
the woman’s long, dark hair, which sparkled with glittering 
morsels of sand and pebbles, and with those tiny, brilliant, 
yellow shells which are so numerous on that shore. 

The woman was both young and beautiful. The fore- 
head, damp with ocean-spray, was like sculptured marble, — 
the eyebrows dark and decided in their outline ; but the 
long, heavy, black fringes had shut down, as a solemn cur- 
tain, over all the history of mortal joy or sorrow that those 
eyes had looked upon. A wedding-ring gleamed on the 
marble hand ; but the sea had divorced all human ties, and 
3 * 


58 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


taken her as a bride to itself. And, in truth, it seemed to 
have made to her a worthy bed, for she was all folded and 
in wreathed in sand and shells and sea-weeds, and a great, 
weird-looking leaf of kelp, some yards in length, lay twined 
around her like a shroud. 

The child that lay in her bosom had hair, and face, and 
eyelashes like her own, and his little hands were holding 
tightly a portion of the black dress which she wore. 

“ Cold, — cold, — stone dead ! ” was the muttered excla- 
mation of the old seaman, as he bent over the woman. 

" She must have struck her head there,” he mused, as he 
laid his finger on a dark, bruised spot on her temple. He 
laid his hand on the child’s heart, and put one finger under 
the arm to see if there was any lingering vital heat, and then 
hastily cut the lashings that bound the pair to the spar, and 
with difficulty disengaged the child from the cold clasp in 
which dying love had boun<} him to a heart which should 
beat no more with mortal joy or sorrow. 

Sally, after the first moment, had run screaming toward 
the house, with all a child’s forward eagerness, to be the 
bearer of news ; but the little Mara stood, looking anxiously, 
with a wishful earnestness of face. 

“ Pitty boy, — pitty boy, — come ! ” she said often ; but 
the old man was so busy, he scarcely regarded her. 

“ Now, Cap’n Kittridge, do tell ! ” said Miss Roxy, meet- 
ing him in all haste, with a cap-border stiff in air, while 
Dame Kittridge exclaimed, — 

“ Now, you don’t ! Well, well ! did n’t I say that was a 
ship last night ? And what a solemnizing thought it was, 
that souls might be goin’ into eternity ! ” 

“We must have blankets and hot bottles, right away ! ” 
said Miss Roxy, who always took the earthly view of mat- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


59 


ters, and who was, in her own person, a personified humane 
society. “ Miss Kittridge, you jist dip out your dishwater 
into the smallest tub, and we ’ll put him in. Stand away, 
Mara ! Sally, you take her out of the way ! We ’ll fetch 
this child to, perhaps. I ’ve fetched ’em to, when they ’s 
seemed to be dead as door-nails ! ” 

“ Cap’n Kittridge, you ’re sure the woman ’s dead ? ” 

“ Laws, yes ; she had a blow right on her temple here. 
There ’s no bringing her to till the resurrection.” 

“ Well, then, you jist go and get Cap’n Pennel to come 
down and help you, and get the body into the house, and 
we ’ll attend to layin* it out by and by. Tell Ruey to come 
down.” 

Aunt Roxy issued her orders with all the military vigor 
and precision of a general in case of a sudden attack. It 
was her habit. Sickness and death were her opportunities ; 
where they were, she felt herself at home, and she addressed 
herself to the task before her with undoubting faith. 

Before many hours a prfir of large, dark eyes slowly 
emerged from under the black-fringed lids of the little 
drowned boy, — they rolled dreamily round for a moment, 
and dropped again in heavy languor. 

The little Mara had, with the quiet persistence which 
formed a trait in her baby character, dragged stools and 
chairs to the back of the bed, which she at last succeeded 
in scaling, and sat opposite to where the child lay, grave and 
still, watching with intense earnestness the process that was 
going on. 

At the moment when the eyes had opened, she stretched 
forth her little arms, and said, eagerly, “ Pitty boy, come,” v 
— and then, as they closed again, she dropped her hands 
with a sigh of disappointment. Yet, before night, the 


60 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


little stranger sat up in bed, and laughed with pleasure at 
the treasures of shells and pebbles which the children spread 
out on the bed before him. 

He was a vigorous, well-made, handsome child, w r ith brill- 
iant eyes and teeth, but the few words that he spoke were 
in a language unknown to most present. Captain Kittridge 
declared it to be Spanish, and that a call which he most 
passionately and often repeated was for his mother. But he 
was of that happy age when sorrow can be easily effaced, 
and the efforts of the children called forth joyous smiles. 
When his playthings did not go to his liking, he showed 
sparkles of a fiery, irascible spirit. 

The little Mara seemed to appropriate hyn in feminine 
fashion, as a chosen idol and graven image. She gave him 
at once all her slender stock of infantine treasures, and 
seemed to watch with an ecstatic devotion his every move- 
ment, — often repeating, as she looked delightedly around, 
“ Pi tty boy, come ” 

She had no words to explain the strange dream of the 
morning ; it lay in her, struggling for expression, and giving 
her an interest in the new-comer as in something belonging 
to herself. Whence it came, — whence come multitudes 
like it, which spring up as strange, enchanted flowers, every 
now and then in the dull, material pathway of life, — who 
knows ? 

It may be that our present faculties have among them a 
rudimentary one, like the germs of wings in the chrysalis, 
by which the spiritual world becomes sometimes an object 
of perception, — there may be natures in which the walls 
of the material are so fine and translucent that the spiritual 
is seen through them as through a glass darkly. It may be, 
too, that the love which is stronger than death has a power 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


61 


sometimes to make itself heard and felt through the walls of 
our mortality, when it would plead for the defenceless ones 
it has left behind. All these things may be, — who knows ? 
****** 

“ There,” said Miss Roxy, coming out of the keeping-room 
at sunset ; “ I would n’t ask to see a better-lookin’ corpse. 
That ar woman was a sight to behold this morning. I guess 
I shook a double handful of stones and them little shells out 
of her hair, — now she reely looks beautiful. Captain Kit- 
tridge has made a coffin out o’ some cedar-boards he hap- 
pened to have, and I lined it with bleached cotton, and 
stuffed the pillow nice and full, and when we come to get 
her in, she reely will look lovely.” 

“ I s’pose, Mis’ Kittridge, you ’ll have the funeral to- 
morrow, — it ’s Sunday.” 

“ Why, yes, Aunt Roxy, — I think everybody must want 
to improve such a dispensation. Have you took little Mara 
in to look at the corpse ? ” 

“ Well, no,” said Miss Roxy ; “ Mis’ Pennel ’s gettin’ 
ready to take her home.” 

“ I think it ’s an opportunity we ought to improve,” said 
Mrs. Kittridge, “ to learn children what death is. I think 
we can’t begin to solemnize their minds too young.” 

At this moment Sally and the little Mara entered the 
room. 

“ Come here, children,” said Mrs. Kittridge, taking a hand 
of either one, and leading them to the closed door of the 
keeping-room ; “ I ’ve got somethin’ to show you.” 

The room looked ghostly and dim, — the rays of light fell 
through the closed shutter on an object mysteriously muffled 
in a white sheet. 

Sally’s bright face expressed only the vague curiosity of a 


62 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


child to see something new ; but the little Mara resisted and 
hung back with all her force, so that Mrs. Kittridge was 
obliged to take her up and hold her. 

She folded back the sheet from the chill and wintry form 
which lay so icily, lonely, and cold. Sally walked around 
it, and gratified her curiosity by seeing it from every point 
of view, and laying her warm, busy hand on the lifeless and 
cold one ; but Mara clung to Mrs. Kittridge, with eyes that 
expressed a distressed astonishment. The good woman 
stooped over and placed the child’s little hand for a mo- 
ment on the icy forehead. The little one gave a piercing 
scream, and struggled to get away ; and as soon as she was 
put down, she ran and hid her face in Aunt Roxy’s dress, 
sobbing bitterly. 

“ That child ’ll grow up to follow vanity,” said Mrs. Kit- 
tridge ; “ her little head is full of dress now, and she hates 
anything serious, — it ’s easy to see that.” 

The little Mara had no words to tell what a strange, dis- 
tressful chill had passed up her arm and through her brain, 
as she felt that icy cold of death, — that cold so different 
from all others. It was an impression of fear and pain that 
lasted weeks and months, so* that she would start out of sleep 
and cry with a terror which she had not yet a Sufficiency of 
language to describe. 

“ You seem to forget, Mis’ Kittridge, that this ’ere child 
a’n’t rugged like our Sally,” said Aunt Roxy, as she raised 
the little Mara in her arms. “ She was a seven-months’ 
baby, and hard to raise at all, and a shivery, scary little 
creature.” 

“ Well, then, she ought to be hardened,” said Dame Kit- 
tridge. “ But Mary Pennel never had no sort of idea of 
bringin’ up children, — ’t was jist so with Naomi, — the girl 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


63 


never had no sort o’ resolution, and she just died for want o’ 
resolution, — that ’s what came of it. I tell ye, children *s 
got to learn to take the world as it is ; and ’t a’n’t no use 
bringin’ on ’em up too tender. Teach ’em to begin as 
they ’ve got to go on, — that ’s my maxim.” 

“ Mis’ Kittridge,” said Aunt Roxy, “ there ’s reason in all 
things, and there ’s difference in children. ‘ What ’s one’s 
meat ’s another’s pison.’ You could n’t fetch up Mis’ Pen- 
nel’s children, and she could n’t fetch up yourn, — so let ’s 
say no more ’bout it.” 

“ I ’m always a-tellin’ my wife that ar,” said Captain Kit- 
tridge ; “ she ’s always wantin’ to make everybody over after 
her pattern.” 

“ Cap’n Kittridge, I don’t think you need to speak,” 
resumed his wife. “ When such a loud providence is 
a-knockin’ at your door, I think you ’d better be a-searchin’ 
your own heart, — here it is the eleventh hour, and you 
ha’ n’t come into the Lord’s vineyard yet.” 

“ Oh ! come, come, Mis’ , Kittridge, don’t twit a feller 
afore folks,” said the Captain. “ I ’m goin’ over to Harps- 
well Neck this blessed minute after the minister to ’tend the 
funeral, — so we ’ll let him preach.” 


64 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Life on any shore is a dull affair, — ever degenerating 
into commonplace ; and this may account for the eagerness 
with which even a great calamity is sometimes accepted in a 
neighborhood, as affording wherewithal to stir the deeper 
feelings of our nature. 

Thus, though Mrs. Kittridge was by no means a hard- 
hearted woman, and would not for the world have had a 
ship wrecked on her particular account, yet since a ship had 
been wrecked and a body floated ashore at her very door, 
as it were, it afforded her no inconsiderable satisfaction to 
dwell on the details and to arrange for the funeral. 

It was something to talk about and to think of, and likely 
to furnish subject-matter for talk for years to come when 
she should go out to tea with any of her acquaintances who 
lived at Middle Bay, or Maquoit, or Harpswell Neck. For 
although in those days, — the number of light-houses being 
much smaller than it is now, — it was no uncommon thing 
•for ships to be driven on shore in storms, yet this incident 
had undeniably more that was stirring and romantic in it 
than any within the memory of any tea-table gossip in the 
vicinity. Mrs. Kittridge, therefore, looked forward to the 
funeral services on Sunday afternoon as to a species of 
solemn fete, which imparted a sort of consequence to her 
dwelling and herself. Notice of it was to be given out in 
“ meeting ” after service, and she might expect both keep- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


65 


ing-room and kitchen to be full. Mrs. Pennel had offered 
to do her share of Christian and neighborly kindness, in 
taking home to her own dwelling the little boy. In fact, it 
became necessary to do so in order to appease the feelings 
of the little Mara, who clung to the new acquisition with 
most devoted fondness, and wept bitterly when he was sep- 
arated from her even for a few moments. Therefore, in the 
afternoon of the day when the body was found, Mrs. Pennel, 
who had come down to assist, went back in company with 
Aunt Ruey and the two children. 

The September evening set in brisk and chill, and the 
cheerful fire that snapped and roared up the ample chimney 
of Captain Kittridge’s kitchen was a pleasing' feature. The 
days of our story were before the advent of those sullen 
gnomes, the “ air-tights,” or even those more sociable and 
cheery domestic genii, the cooking-stoves. They were the 
days of the genial open kitchen-fire, with the crane, the 
pot-hooks, and trammels, — where hissed and boiled the 
social tea-kettle, where steamed the huge dinner-pot, in 
whose ample depths beets, carrots, potatoes, and turnips 
boiled in jolly sociability with the pork or corned beef 
which they were destined to flank at the coming meal. 

On the present evening, Miss Roxy sat bolt upright, as 
was her wont, in one corner of the fireplace, with her specta- 
cles on her nose, and an unwonted show of candles on the* 
little stand beside her, having resumed the task of the silk 
dress which had been for a season interrupted. Mrs. Kit- 
tridge, with her spectacles also mounted, was carefully and 
warily “ running-up breadths,” stopping every few minutes 
to examine her work, and to inquire submissively of Miss 
Roxy if “ it will do ? ” 

Captain Kittridge sat in the other corner .busily whittling 


66 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


on a little boat which he was shaping to please Sally, who sat 
on a low stool by his side with her knitting, evidently more 
intent on what her father was producing than on the evening 
task of “ ten bouts,” which her mother exacted before she 
could freely give her mind to anything on her own account. 
As Sally was rigorously sent to bed exactly at eight o’clock, 
it became her to be diligent if she wished to do anything for 
her own amusement before that hour. 

And in the next room, cold and still, was lying that faded 
image of youth and beauty which the sea had so strangely 
given up. Without a name, without a history, without a 
single accompaniment from which her past could even be 
surmised, — there she lay, sealed in eternal silence. 

“ It ’s strange,” said Captain Kittridge, as he whittled 
away, — “ it ’s very strange we don’t find anything more of 
that ar ship. I ’ve been all up and down the beach a-lookin’. 
There was a spar and some broken bits of boards and tim- 
bers come ashore down on the beach, but nothin’ to speak of.” 

“ It won’t be known till the sea gives up its dead,” said 
Miss Roxy, shaking her head solemnly, “ and there ’ll be a 
great givin’ up then , I ’m a-thinkin’.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Mrs. Kittridge, with an emphatic nod. 
“Father,” said Sally, “how many, many things there 
must be at the bottom of the sea, — so many ships are 
sunk with all their fine things on board. Why don’t people 
contrive some way to go down and get them ? ” 

“ They do, child,” said Captain Kittridge ; “ they have 
diving-bells, and men go down in ’em with caps over their 
faces, and long tubes to get the air through, and they walk 
about on the bottom of the ocean.” 

“ Did you ever go down in one, father ? ” 

“ Why, yes, .child, to be sure ; and strange enough it was, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


67 


to be sure. There you could see great big sea critters, with 
ever so many eyes and long arms, swimming right up to 
catch you, and all you could do would be to muddy the 
water on the bottom, so they could n’t see you.” 4 

“ I never heard of that , Cap’n Kittridge,” said his wife, 
drawing herself up with a reproving coolness. 

“ Wal’, Mis’ Kittridge, you ha’ n’t heard of everything 
that ever happened,” said the Captain, imperturbably, 
“though you do know a sight.” 

“ And how does the bottom of the ocean look, father ? ” 
said Sally. 

“ Laws, child, why trees and bushes grow there, just as 
they do on land ; and great plants, — blue and purple and 
green and yellow, and lots of great pearls lie round. I ’ve 
seen ’em big as chippin’-birds’ eggs.” 

“ Cap’n Kittridge ! ” said his wife. 

“ I have, and big as robins’ eggs, too, but them was off 
the coast of Ceylon and Malabar, and way round the Equa- 
tor,” said the Captain, prudently resolved to throw his ro- 
mance to a sufficient distance. 

“ It ’s a pity you did n’t get a few of them pearls,” said 
his wife, with an indignant appearance of scorn. 

“ I did get lots on ’em, and traded ’em off to the Nabobs 
in the interior for Cashmere shawls and India silks and 
sich,” said the Captain, composedly ; “ and brought ’em 
home and sold ’em at a good figure, too.” 

“ Oh, father ! ” said Sally, earnestly, “ I wish you had . 
saved just one or two for us.” 

“Laws, child, I wish now I had,” said the Captain, good- 
naturedly. “ Why, when I was in India, I went up to 
Lucknow, and Benares, and round, and saw all the Nabobs 
and Biggums, — why, they don’t make no more of gold and 


68 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


silver and precious stones than we do of the shells we find 
on the beach. Why, I ’ve seen one of them fellers with a 
diamond in his turban as big as my fist.” 

“ Cap’n Kittridge, what are you telling ? ” said his wife 
once more. 

“ Fact, — as big as my fist,” said the Captain, obdurately ; 
“ and all the clothes he wore was jist a stiff crust of pearls 
and precious stones. I tell you, he looked like something in 
the Revelations, — a real New Jerusalem look he had.” 

“ I call that ar talk wicked, Cap’n Kittridge, usin’ Scrip- 
tur’ that ar way,” said his wife. 

“ Why, don’t it tell about all sorts of gold and precious 
stones in the Revelations ? ” said the Captain ; “ that ’s all I 
meant. Them ar countries off in Asia a’n’t like our ’n, — 
stands to reason they should n’t be ; them ’s Scripture coun- 
tries, and everything is different there.” 

“ Father, did n’t you ever get any of those splendid 
things ? ” said Sally. 

“ Laws, yes, child. Why, I had a great green ring, an 
emerald, that one of the princes giv’ me, and ever so many 
pearls and diamonds. I used to go with ’em rattlin’ loose in 
my vest pocket. I was young and gay in them days, and 
thought of bringin’ of ’em home for the gals, but somehow I 
always got opportunities for swappin’ of ’em off for goods and 
sich. That ar shawl your mother keeps in her camfire chist 
was what I got for one on ’em.” 

“ Well, well,” said Mrs. Kittridge, “ there ’s never any 
catchin’ you, ’cause you ’ve been where we have n’t.” 

“ You ’ve caught me once, and that ought ’r do,” said the 
Captain, with unruffled good-nature. “ I tell youj Sally, your 
mother was the handsomest gal in Harpswell in them days.” 

“I should think you was too old for such nonsense. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


G9 


Cap’n,” said Mrs. Kittridge, with a toss of her head, and 
a voice that sounded far less inexorable than her former 
admonition. 

In fact, though the old Captain was as unmanageable un- 
der his wife’s fireside regime as any brisk old cricket that 
skipped and sang around the hearth, and though he hopped 
over all moral boundaries with a cheerful alertness of con- 
science that was quite discouraging, still there was no resist- 
ing the spell of his inexhaustible good-nature. 

By this time he had finished the little boat, and to Sally’s 
great delight, began sailing it for her in a pail of water. 

“ I wonder,” said Mrs. Kittridge, “ what ’s to be done 
with that ar child. I suppose the selectmen will take 
care on’t; it’ll be brought up by the town.” 

“ I should n’t wonder,” said Miss Roxy, “ if Cap’n Pennel 
should adopt it.” 

“ You don’t think so,” said Mrs. Kittridge. “ ’T would 
be taking a great care and expense on their hands at their 
time of life.” 

“I wouldn’t want no better fun than to bring up that 
little shaver,” said Captain Kittridge ; “ he ’s a bright un, I 
promise you.” 

“ You, Cap’n Kittridge ! I wonder you can talk so,” said 
his wife. “ It ’s an awful responsibility, and I wonder you 
don’t think whether or no you ’re fit for it.” 

“ Why, down here on the shore, I ’d as lives undertake a 
boy as a Newfoundland pup,” said the Captain. “ Plenty iu 
the sea to eat, drink, and wear. That ar young un may be 
the staff of their old age yet.” 

« You see,” said Miss Roxy, “ I think they ’ll adopt it to 
be company for little Mara ; they ’r’ bound up in her, and 
the little thing pines bein’ alone.” 


70 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Well, they make a real graven image of that ar child,” 
said Mrs. Kittridge, “ and fairly bow down to her and wor- 
ship her.” 

“ Well, it ’s natural,” said Miss Roxy. “ Besides, the 
little thing is cunnin’ ; she ’s about the cunnin’est little 
crittur that I ever saw, and has such enticin’ ways.” 

The fact was, as the reader may perceive, that Miss Roxy 
had been thawed into an unusual attachment for the little 
Mara, and this affection was beginning to spread a warming 
element through her whole being. It was as if a rough 
granite rock had suddenly awakened to a passionate con- 
sciousness of the beauty of some fluttering white anemone 
that nestled in its cleft, and felt warm thrills running through 
all its veins at every tender motion and shadow. A word 
spoken against the little one seemed to rouse her combative- 
ness. Nor did Dame Kittridge bear the child the slightest 
ill-will, but she was one of those naturally care-taking peo- 
ple whom Providence seems to design to perform the picket 
duties for the rest of society, and who, therefore, challenge 
everybody and everything to stand and give an account of 
themselves. 

Miss Roxy herself belonged to this class, but sometimes 
found herself so stoutly overhauled by the guns of Mrs. 
Kittridge’s battery, that she could only stand modestly on 
the defensive. 

One of Mrs. Kittridge’s favorite hobbies was education, 
or, as she phrased it, the “ fetchin’ up ” of children, which 
she held should be performed to the letter of the old stiff 
rule. In this manner she had already trained up six sons, 
who were all following their fortunes upon the seas, and, 
on this account, she had no small conceit of her abilities ; 
and when she thought she discerned a lamb being left to 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


71 


frisk heedlessly out of bounds, her zeal was stirred to bring 
it under proper sheepfold regulations. 

“ Come, Sally, it ’s eight o’clock,” said the good woman. 

Sally’s dark brows lowered over her large, black eyes, 
and she gave an appealing look to her father. 

“ Law, mother, let the child sit up a quarter of an hour 
later, jist for once.” 

“ Cap’n Kittridge, if I was to hear to you, there ’d never be 
no rule in this house. Sally, you go ’long this minute, and 
be sure you put your knittin’ away in its place.” 

The Captain gave a humorous nod of submissive good- 
nature to his daughter as she went out. In fact, putting 
Sally to bed was taking away his plaything, and leaving 
him nothing to do but study faces in the coals, or watch 
the fleeting sparks which chased each other in flocks up 
the sooty back of the chimney. 

It was Saturday night, and the morrow was Sunday, — 
never a very pleasant prospect to the poor Captain, who, 
having, unfortunately, no spiritual tastes, found it very 
difficult to get through the day in compliance with his 
wife’s views of propriety, for he, alas ! soared no higher 
in his aims. 

“ I b’lieve, on the hull, Polly, I ’ll go to bed, too,” said he, 
suddenly starting up. 

“ Well, father, your clean shirt is in the right-hand corner 
of the upper drawer, and your Sunday clothes on the back 
of the chair by the bed.” 

The fact was that the Captain promised himself the 
pleasure of a long conversation with Sally, who nestled in 
the trundle-bed under the paternal couch, to whom he could 
relate long, many-colored yarns, without the danger of inter- 
ruption from her mother’s sharp, truth-seeking voice. 


72 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


A moralist might, perhaps, be puzzled exactly what ac- 
count to make of the Captain’s disposition to romancing 
and embroidery. In all real, matter-of-fact transactions, 
as between man and man, his word was as good as 
another’s, and he was held to be honest and just in his 
dealings. It was only when he mounted the stilts of foreign 
travel that his paces became so enormous. Perhaps, after 
all, a rude poetic and artistic faculty possessed the man. 
He might have been a humbler phase of the “ mute, in- 
glorious Milton.” Perhaps his narrations required the priv- 
ileges and allowances due to the inventive arts generally. 
Certain it was that, in common with other artists, he re- 
quired an atmosphere of sympathy and confidence in which 
to develop himself fully ; and, when left alone with children, 
his mind ran such riot, that the bounds between the real and 
unreal became foggier than the banks of Newfoundland. 

The two women sat up, and the night wore on apace, 
while they kept together that customary vigil which it was 
thought necessary to hold over the lifeless casket from which 
an immortal jewel had recently been withdrawn. 

“ I re’lly did hope,” said Mrs. Kittridge, mournfully, “ that 
this ’ere solemn Providence would have been sent home to 
the Cap’n’s mind ; but he seems jist as light and triflin’ as 
ever.” 

“ There don’t nobody see these ’ere things unless they ’s 
effectually called,” said Miss Roxy, “ and the Cap’n’s time 
a’n’t come.” 

“ It ’s gettin’ to be t’ward the eleventh hour,” said Mrs. 
Kittridge, “ as I was a-tellin’ him this afternoon.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Roxy, “ you know 

‘While the lamp holds out to burn, 

The vilest sinner may return.’ ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


73 


“ Yes, I know that,” said Mrs. Kittridge, rising and taking 
up the candle. “ Don’t you think, Aunt Roxy, we may as 
well give a look in there at the corpse?” 

It was past midnight as they went together into the 
keeping-room. All was so still that the clash of the rising 
tide and the ticking of the clock assumed that solemn and 
mournful distinctness which even tones less impressive take 
on in the night-watches. 

Miss Roxy went mechanically through with certain ar- 
rangements of the white drapery around the cold sleeper, 
and uncovering the face and bust for a moment, looked 
critically at the still unconscious countenance. 

“ Not one thing to let us know who or what she is,” she 
said ; “ that boy, if he lives, would' give a good deal to know 
some day.” 

“ What is it one’s duty to do about this bracelet ? ” said 
Mrs. Kittridge, taking from a drawer the article in ques- 
tion, which had been found on the beach in the morning. 

“ Wfell, I s’pose it belongs to the child, whatever it’s 
worth,” said Miss Roxy. 

“ Then if the Pennels conclude to take him, I may as 
well give it to them,” said Mrs. Kittridge, laying it back in 
the drawer. 

Miss Roxy folded the cloth back over the face, and the 
two went out into the kitchen. The fire had sunk low — • 
the crickets were chirruping gleefully. Mrs. Kittridge 
added more wood, and put on the tea-kettle that their 
watching might be refreshed by the aid of its talkative 
and inspiring beverage. The two solemn, hard-visaged 
women drew up to each other by the fire, and insensibly 
their very voices assumed a tone of drowsy and confidential 
mystery. 


4 


74 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ If this ’ere poor woman was hopefully pious, and could 
see what was goin’ on here,” said Mrs. Kittridge, “ it would 
seem to be a comfort to her that her child has fallen into 
such good hands. It seems a’most a pity she couldn’t 
know it.” 

“ How do you know she don’t ? ” said Miss Roxy, bruskly. 

“ Why, you know the hymn,” said Mrs. Kittridge, quoting 
those somewhat saddusaical lines from the popular psalm- 
book : — 

“ ‘ The living know that they must die, 

But all the dead forgotten lie — 

Their memory and their senses gone , 

Alike unknowing and unknown ” 

“ Well, I don’t know ’bout that,” said Miss Roxy, flavor- 
ing her cup of tea ; “ hymn-book a’n’t Scriptur’, and I ’m 
pretty sure that ar a’n’t true always ; ” and she nodded her 
head as if she could say more if she chose. 

Now Miss Roxy’s reputation of vast experience in all the 
facts relating to those last fateful hours which are the only 
certain event in every human existence, caused her to be 
regarded as a sort of Delphic oracle in such matters, and 
therefore Mrs. Kittridge, not without a share of the latent 
superstition to which each human heart must confess at some 
hours, drew confidentially near to Miss Roxy, and asked if 
she had anything particular on her mind. 

“ Well, Mis’ Kittridge,” said Miss Roxy, “ I a’n’t one of 
the sort as likes to make a talk of what I ’ve seen, but meb- 
be if I was, I ’ve seen some things as remarkable as any- 
body. I tell you Mis’ Kittridge, folks don’t tend the sick 
and dyin’ bed year in and out, at all hours, day and night, 
and not see some remarkable things ; that ’s my opinion.” 

“ Well, Miss Roxy, did you ever see a sperit ? ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


75 


“ I won’t say as I have, and I won’t say as I kav’ n’t,” 
said Miss Roxy ; “ only as I have seen some remarkable 
things.” There was a pause, in which Mrs. Kittridge stirred 
her tea, looking intensely curious, while the old kitchen- 
clock seemed to tick with one of those fits of loud insist- 
ance which seem to take clocks at times when all is still, as 
if they had something that they were getting ready to say 
pretty soon, if nobody else spoke. 

But Miss Roxy evidently had something to say, and so 
she began : — 

“ Mis’ Kittridge, this ’ere ’s a very particular subject to 
be talkin’ of. I ’ve had opportunities to observe that most 
hav’ n’t, and I don’t care if I jist say to you , that I ’m pretty 
sure spirits that has left the body do come to their friends 
sometimes.” 

The clock ticked with still more empressement , and Mrs. 
Kittridge glared through the horn bows of her glasses with 
eyes of eager curiosity. 

“ Now, you remember Cap’n Titcomb’s wife that died fif- 
teen years ago when her husband had gone to Archangel, 
and you remember that he took her son John out with him 
— and of all her boys, John was the one she was particular 
sot on.” 

“ Yes, and John died at Archangel ; I remember that.” 

“ Jes’ so,” said Miss Roxy, laying her hand on Mrs. Kit- 
tridge’s ; “ he died at Archangel the very day his mother died, 
and jist the hour, for the Cap’n had it down in his log-book.” 

“ You don’t say so ! ” 

“ Yes I do. Well, now,” said Miss Roxy, sinking her 
voice, “ this ’ere was remarkable. Mis’ Titcomb was one of 
the fearful sort, tho’ one of the best women that ever lived. 
Our minister used to call her ‘ Mis’ Muchafraid ’ — you 


76 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


know, in the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ — but he was satisfied 
with her evidences, and told her so ; she used to say she was 
‘afraid of the dark valley,’ and she told our minister so 
when he went out, that ar last day he called ; and his 
last words, as he stood with his hand on the knob of the 
door, was ‘ Mis’ Titcomb, the Lord will find ways to bring 
you thro’ the dark valley.’ Well, she sunk away about 
three o’clock in the morning. I remember the time, ’cause 
the Cap’n’s chronometer watch that he left with her lay on 
the stand for her to take her drops by. I heard her kind o’ 
restless, and I went up, and I saw she was struck with death, 
and she looked sort o’ anxious and distressed. 

“ ‘ Oh, Aunt Roxy,’ says she, ‘ it ’s so dark, who will go 
with me? ’and in a minute her whole face brightened up, 
and says she, ‘John is going with me,’ and she jist gave the 
least little sigh and never breathed no more — she jist died 
as easy as a bird. 

“ I told our minister of it next morning, and he asked if 
I ’d made a note of the hour, and I told him I had, and says 
he, ‘ You did right, Aunt Roxy.’ ” 

“ What did he seem to think of it ? ” 

“ Well, he did n’t seem inclined to speak freely. ‘ Miss 
Roxy,’ says he, ‘ all natur ’s in the Lord’s hands, and there ’s 
no saying why he uses this or that; them that’s strong 
enough to go by faith, he lets ’em, but there’s no saying 
what he won’t do for the weak ones.’” 

“ Wa’n’t the Cap’n overcome when you told him ? ” said 
Mrs. Kittridge. 

“ Indeed he was ; he was jist as white as a sheet.” 

Miss Roxy now proceeded to pour out another cup of tea, 
and having mixed and flavored it, she looked in a weird and 
sibylline manner across it, and inquired, — 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


77 


“ Mis’ Kittridge, do you remember that ar Mr. Wadkins 
that come to Brunswick twenty years ago, in President 
Averill’s days ? ” 

“ Yes, I remember the pale, thin, long-nosed gentleman 
that used to sit in President Averill’s pew at church. No- 
body knew who he w r as or where he came from. The col- 
lege students used to call him Thaddeus of Warsaw. No- 
body knew who he was but the President, ’cause he could 
speak all the foreign tongues — one about as well as an- 
other ; but the President he knew his story, and said he was 
a good man, and he used to stay to the sacrament regular, I 
remember.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Roxy, “ he used to live in a room all 
alone, and keep himself. Folks said he was quite a gentle- 
man, too, and fond of reading.” 

“ I heard Cap’n Atkins tell,” said Mrs. Kittridge, “ how 
they came to take him up on the shores of Holland. You 
see, when he was somewhere in a port in Denmark, some 
men come to him and offered him a pretty good sum of 
money if he ’d be at such a place on the coast of Holland 
on such a day, and take whoever should come. So the 
Cap’n he went, and sure enough on that day there come a 
troop of men on horseback down to the beach with this man, 
and they all bid him good-by, and seemed to make much of 
him, but he never told ’em nothin’ on board ship, only he 
seemed kind o’ sad and pinin’.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Roxy ; “ Ruey and I we took care o’ 
that man in his last sickness, and we watched with him the 
night he died, and there was something quite remarkable.” 

“ Do tell now,” said Mrs. Kittridge. 

, « Well, you see,” said Miss Roxy, “ he ’d been low and 
poorly all day, kind o’ tossin’ and restless, and a little light- 


78 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


headed, and the Doctor said he thought he wouldn’t last till 
morning, and so Ruey and I we set up with him, and be- 
tween twelve and one Ruey said she thought she ’d jist lop 
down a few minutes on the old sofa at the foot of the bed, 
and I made me a cup of tea like as I ’m a-doin’ now, and 
set with my back to him.” 

“Well?” said Mrs. Kittridge, eagerly. 

“Well, you see he kept a-tossin’ and throwin’ off the 
clothes, and I kept a-gettin’ up to straighten ’em ; and once 
he threw out his arms, and something bright fell out on to 
the pillow, and I went and looked, and it was a likeness that 
he wore by a ribbon round his neck. It was a woman — a 
real handsome one — and she had on a low-necked bl%ck 
dress, of the cut they used to call Marie Louise, and she had 
a string of pearls round her neck, and her hair curled with 
pearls in it, and very wide blue eyes. Well, you see, I 
did n’t look but a minute before he seemed to wake up, and 
he caught at it and hid it in his clothes. Well, I went and 
sat down, and I grew kind o’ sleepy over the fire ; but pretty 
soon I heard him speak out very clear, and kind o’ sur- 
prised, in a tongue I did n’t understand, and I looked 
round.” 

Miss Roxy here made a pause, and put another lump of 
sugar into her tea. 

“Well?” said Mrs. Kittridge, ready to burst with curi- 
osity. 

“Well, now, I don’t like to tell about these ’ere things, 
and you must n’t never speak about it ; but as sure as you 
live, Polly Kittridge, I see that ar very woman standin’ at 
the back of the bed, right in the partin’ of the curtains, jist 
as she looked in the pictur’ — blue eyes and curly hair, and 
pearls on her neck, and black dress.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


70 


“ What did you do ? ” said Mrs. Kittridge. 

“ Do ? Why, I jist held my breath and looked, and in a 
minute it kind o’ faded away, and I got up and went to the 
bed, but the man was gone. He lay there with the pleasant- 
est smile on his face that ever you see ; and I woke up 
Huey, and told her about it.” 

Mrs. Kittridge drew a long breath. “ What do you think 
it was ? ” 

“Well,” said Miss Roxy, “I know what I think, but I 
don’t think best to tell. I told Doctor Meritts, and he said 
there were more things in heaven and earth than folks knew 
about — and so I think.” 

******* 

Meanwhile, on this same evening, the little Mara frisked 
like a household fairy round the hearth of Zephaniali 
Pennel. 

The boy was a strong-limbed, merry-hearted little urchin, 
and did full justice to the abundant hospitalities of Mrs. 
Pennel’s tea-table ; and after supper little Mara employed 
herself in bringing apronful after apronful of her choicest 
treasures, and laying them down at his feet. His great 
black eyes flashed with pleasure, and he gambolled about 
the hearth with his new playmate in perfect forgetfulness, 
apparently, of all the past night of fear and anguish. 

When the great family Bible was brought out for prayers, 
and little Mara composed herself on a low stool by her 
grandmother’s side, he, however, did not conduct himself 
as a babe of grace. 

He resisted all Miss Ruey’s efforts to make him sit down 
beside her, and stood staring with his great, black, irreverent 
eyes during the Bible-reading, and laughed out in the most 
inappropriate manner when the psalm-singing began, and 


80 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


seemed disposed to mingle incoherent remarks of his own 
even in the prayers. 

“ This is a pretty self-willed youngster,” said Miss Ruey, 
as they rose from the exercises, “ and I should n’t think 
he ’d been used to religious privileges.” 

“ Perhaps not,” said Zephaniah Pennel ; “ but who can 
say but what this providence is a message of the Lord to us 
— such as Pharaoh’s daughter sent about Moses — ‘ Take 
this child, and bring him up for me ’ ? ” 

“ I ’d like to take him, if I thought I was capable,” said 
Mrs. Pennel, timidly. “ It seems a real providence to give 
Mara some company — the poor child pines so for want 
of it.” 

“ Well, then, Mary, if you say so, we will bring him up 
with our little Mara,” said Zephaniah, drawing the child 
toward him. 

“ May the Lord bless him ! ” he added, laying his great 
brown hands on the shining black curls of the child. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


81 


CHAPTER IX. 

Sunday morning rose clear and bright on Harpswell 
Bay. The whole sea was a waveless, blue looking-glass, 
streaked with bands of white, and flecked with sailing cloud- 
shadows from the skies above. 

Orr’s Island, with its blue-black spruces, its silver firs, 
its golden larches, its scarlet sumachs, lay on the bosom 
of the deep like a great many-colored gem on an enchanted 
mirror. 

A vague, dreamlike sense of rest and Sabbath stilhiess 
seemed to brood in the air. The very spruce-trees seemed 
to know that it was Sunday, and to point solemnly upward 
-with their dusky fingers ; and the small tide-waves that 
chased each other up on the shelly beach, or broke against 
projecting rocks, seemed to do it with a chastened decorum, 
as if each blue-haired wave whispered to his brother, “ Be 
still — be still.” 

Yes, Sunday it was along all the beautiful shores of 
Maine — netted in green and azure by its thousand islands, 
all glorious with their majestic pines, all musical and silvery 
with the caresses of the sea-waves, that loved to w r ander 
and lose themselves in their numberless shelly coves and 
tiny beaches among their cedar shadows. 

Not merely as a burdensome restraint, or a weary endur- 
ance, came the shadow of that Puritan Sabbath. It brought 
with it all the sweetness that belongs to rest, all the sacred 


82 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


ness that hallows home, all the memories of patient thrift, 
of sober order, of chastened yet intense family feeling, of 
calmness, purity, and self-respecting dignity which distin- 
guish the Puritan household. 

It seemed a solemn pause in all the sights and sounds of 
earth. And he whose moral nature was not yet enough 
developed to fill the blank with visions of heaven, was yet 
wholesomely instructed by his weariness into the secret of 
his own spiritual poverty. 

Zephaniah Pennel, in his best Sunday clothes, with his 
hard visage glowing with a sort of interior tenderness, min- 
istered this morning at his family-altar — one of those thou- 
sand priests of God’s ordaining that tend the sacred fire in 
as many families of New England. 

He had risen with the morning star and been forth to 
meditate, and came in with his mind softened and glowing. 
The trancelike calm of earth and sea found a solemn answer 
with him, as he read what a poet wrote by the sea-shores of 
the Mediterranean, ages ago : — “ Bless the Lord, O my 
soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great ; thou art 
clothed with honor and majesty. Who coverest thyself 
with light as with a garment : who stretchest out the heavens 
like a curtain : who layeth the beams of his chambers in the 
waters : who maketh the clouds his chariot : who walketli 
upon the wings of the wind. The trees of the Lord are full 
of sap ; the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted ; 
where the birds make their nests ; as for the stork, the fir- 
trees are her house. O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! 
in wisdom hast thou made them all.” 

Ages ago the cedars that the poet saw have rotted into 
dust, and from their cones have risen generations of others, 
wide-winged and grand. But the words of that poet have 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


83 


been wafted like seed to our days, and sprung up in flowers 
of trust and faith in a thousand households. 

K Well, now,” said Miss Ruey, when the morning rite was 
over, “ Mis’ Pennel, I s’pose you and the Cap’n will be 
wantin’ to go to the meetin’, so don’t you gin yourse’ves a 
mite of trouble about the children, for I ’ll stay at home with 
’em. The little feller was starty and fretful in his sleep last 
night, and did n’t seem to be quite well.” 

“ No wonder, poor dear,” said Mrs. Pennel ; “ it ’s a won- 
der children can forget as they do.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Ruey ; “ you know them lines in the 
1 English Reader,’ — 

‘ Gay hope is theirs by fancy led, 

Least pleasing when possessed; 

The tear forgot as soon as shed, 

The sunshine of the breast.’ 

Them lines all’ys seemed to me affectin’.” 

Miss Ruey’s sentiment was here interrupted by a loud 
cry from the bedroom, and something between a sneeze and 
a howl. 

“ Massy, what is that ar young un up to ! ” she ex- 
claimed, rushing into the adjoining bedroom. 

There stood the young Master Hopeful of our story, with 
streaming eyes and much-bedaubed face, having just, after 
much labor, succeeded in making Miss Ruey’s snuff-box fly 
open, which he did with such force as to send the contents 
in a perfect cloud into eyes, nose, and mouth. 

The scene of struggling and confusion that ensued cannot 
be described. The washings, and wipings, and sobbings, 
and exhortings, and the sympathetic sobs of the little Mara, 
formed a small tempest for the time being that was rather 
appalling. 


84 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“Well, this ’ere’s a youngster that’s a-goin’ to make 
work,” said Miss Ruey, when all things were tolerably 
restored. “ Seems to make himself at home first thing.” 

“ Poor little dear,” said Mrs. Pennel, in the excess of 
loving-kindness, “ I hope he will ; he ’s welcome, I ’m 
sure.” 

“ Not to my snuff-box,” said Miss Ruey, who had felt 
herself attacked in a very tender point. 

“ He ’s got the notion of lookin’ into things pretty early,” 
said Captain Pennel, with an indulgent smile. 

“ Well, Aunt Ruey,” said Mrs. Pennel, when this dis- 
turbance was somewhat abated, “ I feel kind o’ sorry to de- 
prive you of your privileges to-day.” 

“ Oh ! never mind me,” said Miss Ruey, briskly. “ I ’ve 
got the big Bible, and I can sing a hymn or two by myself. 
My voice a’n’t quite what it used to be, but then I get a 
good deal of pleasure out of it.” 

Aunt Ruey, it must be known, had in her youth been one 
of the foremost leaders in the “ singers’ seats,” and now was 
in the habit of speaking of herself much as a retired prima 
donna might, whose past successes were yet in the minds 
of her generation. 

After giving a look out of the window, to see that the 
children were within sight, she opened the big Bible at the 
story of the ten plagues of Egypt, and adjusting her horn 
spectacles with a sort of sideway twist on her little pug nose, 
she seemed intent on her Sunday duties. A moment after 
she looked up and said, — 

“ I don’t know but I must send a message by you over to 
Mis’ Deacon Badger, about a worldly matter, if H is Sun- 
day; but I’ve been thinkin’, Mis’ Pennel, that there’ll 
have to be clothes made up for this ’ere child next week. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


85 


and so perhaps Roxy and I had better stop here a day or 
two longer, and you tell Mis’ Badger that we ’ll come to 
her a Wednesday, and so she ’ll have time to have that new 
press-board done, — the old one used to pester me so.” 

“ Well, I ’ll remember,” said Mrs. Pennel. 

“ It seems a’most impossible to prevent one’s thoughts 
wanderin’ Sundays,” said Aunt Ruey ; “ but I couldn’t help 
a-thinkin’ I could get such a nice pair o’ trousers out of 
them old Sunday ones of the Cap’n’s in the garret. I was 
a-lookin’ at ’em last Thursday, and thinkin’ what a pity ’t was 
you had n’t nobody to cut down for ; but this ’ere young un ’s 
going to be such a tearer, he ’ll want somethin’ real stout ; 
but I ’ll try' and put it out of my mind till Monday. Mis’ 
Pennel, you ’ll be sure to ask Mis’ Titcomb how Harriet’s 
toothache is, and whether them drops cured her that I gin 
her last Sunday ; and ef you ’ll jist look in a minute at 
Major Broad’s, and tell ’em to use bayberry wax for his 
blister, it ’s so healin’ ; and do jist ask if Sally’s baby’s eye- 
tooth has come through yet.” 

“ Well, Aunt Ruey, I ’ll try to remember all,” said Mrs. 
Pennel, as she stood at the glass in her bedroom, carefully 
adjusting the respectable black silk shawl over her shoul- 
ders, and tying her neat bonnet-strings. 

“I s’pose,” said Aunt Ruey, “that the notice of the funeral 
’ll be gin out after sermon.” 

“ Yes, I think so,” said Mrs. Pennel. 

“ It ’s another loud call,” said Miss Ruey, “ and I hope it 
will turn the young people from their thoughts of dress and 
vanity, — there ’s Mary Jane Sanborn was all took up with 
gettin’ feathers and velvet for her fall bonnet. I don’t think 
I shall get no bonnet this year till snow comes. My bon- 
net ’s respectable enough, — don’t you think so?” 


86 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Certainly, Aunt Ruey, it looks very well.” . 

“ Well, I’ll have the pork and beans and brown-bread 
all hot on table agin you come back,” said Miss Ruey, “ and 
then after dinner we ’ll all go down to the funeral together. 
Mis’ Pennel, there ’s one thing on my mind, — what you 
goin’ to call this ’ere boy ? ” 

“ Father and I ’ve been thinkin’ that over,” said Mrs. 
Pennel. 

“ Would n’t think of giv’n him the Cap’n’s name ? ” said 
Aunt Ruey. 

“ He must have a name of his own,” said Captain Pennel. 
“ Come here, sonny,” he called to the child, who was playing 
just beside the door. 

The child lowered his head, shook down his long black 
curls, and looked through them as elfishly as a Skye terrier, 
but showed no inclination to come. 

“ One thing he has n’t learned, evidently,” said Captain 
Pennel, “and that is to mind.” 

“ Here ! ” he said, “turning to the boy with a little of the 
tone he had used of old on the quarter-deck, and taking his 
small hand firmly. 

The child surrendered, and let the good man lift him on 
his knee and stroke aside the clustering curls ; the boy then 
looked fixedly at him with his great gloomy black eyes, his 
little firm-set mouth and bridled chin, — a perfect little 
miniature of proud manliness. 

“ What ’s your name, little boy ? ” 

The great eyes continued looking in the same solemn 
quiet. 

“ Law, he don’t understand a word,” said Zephaniali, put- 
ting his hand kindly on the child’s head ; “ our tongue is all 
strange to him. Kittridge says he ’s a Spanish child ; may 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


87 


be from the West Indies; but nobody knows, — we never 
shall know his name.” 

“Well, I dare say it was some Popish nonsense or other,” 
said Aunt Huey ; “ and now he ’s come to a land of Christian 
privileges, we ought to give him a good Scripture name, and 
start him well in the world.” 

“ Let ’s call him Moses,” said Zephaniah, “ because we 
drew him out of the water.” 

“ Now, did I ever ! ” said Miss Huey ; “ there ’s some- 
thing in the Bible to fit everything, a’n’t there ? ” 

u I like Moses, because I had a brother of that name,” 
said Mrs. Pennel. 

The child had slid down from his protector’s knee, and 
stood looking from one to the other gravely while this dis- 
cussion was going on. 

What change of destiny was then going on for him in this 
simple formula of adoption, none could tell ; but, surely, 
never orphan stranded on a foreign shore found home with 
hearts more true and loving. 

“ Well, wife, I suppose we must be goin’,” said Zepha- 
niah. 

About a stone’s throw from the open door, the little fish- 
ing-craft lay courtesying daintily on the small tide-waves 
that came licking up the white pebbly shore. 

Mrs. Pennel seated herself in the end of the boat, and a 
pretty placid picture she was, with her smooth, parted hair, 
her modest, cool, drab bonnet, and her bright hazel eyes, in 
which was the Sabbath calm of a loving and tender heart. 

Zephaniah loosed the sail, and the two children stood on 
the beach and saw them go off. A pleasant little wind car- 
ried them away, and back on the breeze came the sound 
of Zephaniah’s Sunday-morning psalm : — 


88 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


“Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear 
IMfy- voice ascending high — 

To thee will I direct my prayer, 

To thee lift up mine eye; 

Unto thy house will I resort, 

To taste thy mercies there; 

I will frequent thy holy court, 

And worship in thy fear.” 

The surface of the glassy bay was dotted here and there 
with the white sails of other little craft bound for the same 
point and for the same purpose. It was as pleasant a sight 
as one might wish to see. 

Left in charge of the house^ Miss Ruey drew a long 
breath, took a consoling pinch of snuff, sang “ Bridge- 
water” in an uncommonly high key, and then began read- 
ing in the prophecies. 

With her good head full of the “ daughter of Zion ” and 
the house of Israel and Judah, she was recalled to terrestrial 
things by loud screams from the barn, accompanied by a 
general flutter and cackling among the hens. 

Away plodded the good soul, and opening the barn-door 
saw the little boy perched on the top of the hay-mow, 
screaming and shrieking, — his face the picture of dismay, — 
while poor little Mara’s cries came in a more muffled manner 
from some unexplored lower region. In fact, she was found 
to have slipped through a hole in the hay-mow into the 
nest of a very domestic sitting-hen, whose clamors at the 
invasion of her family privacy added no little to the general 
confusion. 

The little princess, whose nicety as to her dress and sen- 
sitiveness as to anything unpleasant about her pretty person 
we have seen, was lifted up streaming with tears and broken 
eggs, but otherwise not seriously injured, having fallen on 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


89 


tlie very substantial substratum of hay which Dame Poulet 
had selected as the foundation of her domestic hopes. 

“ Well, now, did I ever ! ” said Miss Huey, when she had 
ascertained that no bones were broken ; “ if that ar young 
un is n’t a limb ! I declare for ’t I pity Mis’ Pennel, — 
she don’t know what she’s undertook. How upon ’arth 
the critter managed to get Mara on to the hay, I ’m sure I 
can’t tell, — that ar little thing never got into no such 
scrapes before.” 

Far from seeming impressed with any wholesome remorse 
of conscience, the little culprit frowned fierce defiance at 
Miss Ruey, when, after having repaired the damages of 
little Mara’s toilet, she essayed the good old plan of shut- 
ting him into the closet. He fought and struggled so 
fiercely that Aunt Ruey’s carroty frisette came off in the 
skirmish, and her head-gear, always rather original, assumed 
an aspect verging on the supernatural. 

Miss Ruey thought of Philistines and Moabites, and all 
the other terrible people she had been reading about that 
morning, and came as near getting into a passion with the 
little elf as so good-humored and Christian an old body 
could possibly do. Human virtue is frail, and every one 
has some vulnerable point. The old Roman senator could 
not control himself when his beard was invaded, and the 
like sensitiveness resides in an old woman’s cap ; and when 
young master irreverently clawed off her Sunday best, Aunt 
Ruey, in her confusion of mind, administered a sound cuff 
on either ear. 

Little Mara, who had screamed loudly through the whole 
scene, now conceiving that her precious new-found treasure 
was endangered, flew at poor Miss Ruey with both little 
hands ; and throwing her arms round her “ boy,” as she 


90 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


constantly called him, she drew him backward, and looked 
defiance at the common enemy. Miss Ruey was dumb- 
struck. 

“ I declare for % I b’lieve he ’s bewitched her,” she said, 
stupefied, having never seen anything like the martial ex- 
pression which now gleamed from those soft brown eyes. 
u Why, Mara dear, — putty little Mara.” 

But Mara was busy wiping away the angry tears that 
stood on the hot, glowing cheeks of the boy, and offering her 
little rose-bud of a mouth to kiss him, as she stood on tiptoe. 

“ Poor boy, — no kie, — Mara’s boy,” she said, — “ Mara 
love boy ; ” and then giving an angry glance at Aunt Ruey, 
who sat much disheartened and confused, she struck out her 
little pearly hand, and cried, “ Go way, — go way, naughty! ” 

The child jabbered unintelligibly and earnestly to Mara, 
and she seemed to have the air of being perfectly satisfied 
with his view of the case, and both regarded Miss Ruey 
with frowning looks. 

Under these peculiar circumstances, the good soul began 
to bethink her of some mode of compromise, and going to 
the closet took out a couple of slices of cake, which she 
offered to the little rebels with pacificatory words. 

Mara was appeased at once, and ran to Aunt Ruey ; but 
the boy struck the cake out of her hand, and looked at her 
with steady defiance. The little one picked it up, and with 
much chippering and many little feminine manoeuvres, at 
last succeeded in making him taste it, after which appetite 
got the better of his valorous resolutions, — he ate and was 
comforted ; and after a little time, the three were on the 
best possible footing. And Miss Ruey having smoothed her 
hair, and arranged her frisette and cap, began to reflect 
upon herself as the cause of the whole disturbance. If 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


91 


she had not let them run while she indulged in reading 
and singing, this would not have happened. So the toil- 
ful good soul kept them at her knee for the next hour 
or two, while they looked through all the pictures in the 
old family Bible. 

****** * 

The evening of that day witnessed a crowded funeral in 
the small rooms of Captain Kittridge. Mrs. Kittridge was 
in her glory. Solemn and lugubrious to the last degree, 
she supplied in her own proper person the want of the 
whole corps of mourners, who generally attract sympathy 
on such occasions. 

But what drew artless pity from all was the unconscious 
orphan, who came in, led by Mrs. Pennel by the one hand, 
and with the little Mara by the other. 

The simple rite of baptism administered to the wondering 
little creature so strongly recalled that other scene three 
years before, that Mrs. Pennel hid her face in her handker- 
chief, and Zephaniah’s firm hand shook a little as he took 
the boy to offer him to the rite. The child received the 
ceremony with a look of grave surprise, put up his hand 
quickly and wiped the holy drops from his brow, as if they 
annoyed him ; and shrinking back, seized hold of the gown 
of Mrs. Pennel. His great beauty, and, still more, the air 
of haughty, defiant firmness with which he regarded the 
company, drew all eyes, and many were the whispered 
comments. 

“ Pennel ’ll have his hands full with that ar chap,” said 
Captain Kittridge to Miss Roxy. 

Mrs. Kittridge darted an admonitory glance at her hus- 
band, to remind him that she was looking at him, and im- 
mediately he collapsed into solemnity. 


92 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


The evening sunbeams slanted over the blackberry bushes 
and mullein stalks of the graveyard, when the lonely voy- 
ager was lowered to the rest from which she should not rise 
till the heavens be no more. As the purple sea at that 
hour retained no trace of the ships that had furrowed its 
waves, so of this mortal traveller no trace remained, not 
even in that infant soul that was to her so passionately 
dear. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


93 


CHAPTER X. 

Mrs. Kittridge’s advantages and immunities resulting 
from the shipwreck were not yet at an end. Not only had 
one of the most “ solemn providences ” known within the 
memory of the neighborhood fallen out at her door, — not 
only had the most interesting funeral that had occurred for 
three or four years taken place in her parlor, but she was 
still further to be distinguished in having the minister to tea 
after the performances were all over. To this end she had 
risen* early ; and taken down her best china tea-cups, which 
had been marked with her and her husband’s joint initials 
in Canton, and which only came forth on high and solemn 
occasions. In view of this probable distinction, on Satur- 
day, immediately after the discovery of the calamity, Mrs. 
Kittridge had found time to rush to her kitchen, and make 
up a loaf of pound-cake and some doughnuts, that the great 
occasion which she foresaw might not find her below her 
reputation as a forehanded housewife. 

It was a fine golden hour when the minister and funeral 
train turned away from the grave. Unlike other funerals, 
there was no draught on the sympathies in favor of mourners 
— no wife, or husband, or parent, left a heart in that grave ; 
and so when the rites were all over, they turned with the 
more cheerfulness back into life, from the contrast of its 
freshness with those shadows into which, for the hour, they 
had been gazing. 


94 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


The Rev. Theophilus Sewell was one of the few ministers 
who preserved the costume of a former generation, with 
something of that imposing dignity with which, in earlier 
times, the habits of the clergy were invested. 

He was tall and majestic in stature, and carried to advan- 
tage the powdered wig and three-cornered hat, the broad- 
skirted coat, knee-breeches, high shoes, and plated buckles 
of the ancient costume. There was just a sufficient degree 
of the formality of olden times to give a certain quaintness 
to all he said and did. He was a man of a considerable de- 
gree of talent, force, and originality, and in fact had been 
held in his day to be one of the most promising graduates 
of Harvard University. 

But, being a good man, he had proposed to himself no 
higher ambition than to succeed to the pulpit of his father 
in Harpswell. 

His parish included not only a somewhat scattered sea- 
faring population on the main-land, but also the care of 
several islands. Like many other of the New England 
clergy of those times, he united in himself numerous dif- 
ferent offices for the benefit of the people whom he served. 

As there was neither lawyer nor physician in the town, 
he had acquired by his reading, and still more by his expe- 
rience, enough knowledge in both these departments to 
enable him to administer to the ordinary wants of a very 
healthy and peaceable people. 

It was said that most of the deeds and legal conveyances 
in his parish were in his handwriting, and in the medical 
line his authority was only rivalled by that of Miss Roxy, 
who claimed a very obvious advantage over him in a certain 
class of cases, from the fact of her being a woman, which 
was still further increased by the circumstance that the good 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


95 


man had retained steadfastly his bachelor estate ; “ so, of 
course,” Miss Roxy used to say, “ poor man ! what could he 
know about a woman, you know ? ” 

This state of bachelorhood gave occasion to much surmis- 
ing ; but when spoken to about it, he was accustomed to 
remark with gallantry, that he should have too much regard 
for any lady whom he could think of as a wife, to ask her to 
share his straitened circumstances. 

His income, indeed, consisted of only about two hundred 
dollars a year ; but upon this he and a very brisk, cheerful 
maiden sister contrived to keep up a thrifty and comfortable 
establishment, in which everything appeared to be pervaded 
by a spirit of quaint cheerfulness. 

In fact, the man might be seen to be an original in his 
way, and all the springs of his life were kept oiled by a 
quiet humor, which sometimes broke out in playful sparkles, 
despite the gravity of the pulpit and the awfulness of the 
cocked hat. 

He had a placid way of amusing himself with the quaint 
and picturesque side of life, as it appeared in all his visit- 
ings among a very primitive, yet very shrewd-minded peo- 
ple. 

There are those people who possess a peculiar faculty of 
mingling in the affairs of this life as spectators as well as 
actors. It does not, of course, suppose any coldness of 
nature or want of human interest or sympathy — nay, it 
often exists most completely with people of the tenderest 
human feeling. 

It rather seems to be a kind of distinct faculty working 
harmoniously with all the others ; but he who possesses it 
needs never to be at a loss for interest or amusement ; he is 
always a spectator at a tragedy or comedy, and sees in real 


96 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


life a humor and a pathos beyond anything he can find 
shadowed in books. 

Mr. Sewell sometimes, in his pastoral visitations, took a 
quiet pleasure in playing upon these simple minds, and 
amusing himself with the odd harmonies and singular reso- 
lutions of chords which started out under his fingers. Sure- 
ly he had a right to something in addition to his limited sal- 
ary, and this innocent, unsuspected entertainment helped to 
make up the balance for his many labors. 

His sister was one of the best-hearted and most unsus- 
picious of the class of female idolaters, and worshipped her 
brother with the most undoubting faith and devotion — 
wholly ignorant of the constant amusement she gave him 
by a thousand little feminine peculiarities, which struck him 
with a continual sense of oddity. It was infinitely diverting 
to him to see the solemnity of her interest in his shirts and 
stockings, and Sunday clothes, and to listen to the subtile 
distinctions which she would draw between best and second- 
best, and every day ; to receive her somewhat prolix admo- 
nition how he was to demean himself in respect of the wear- 
ing of each one ; for Miss Emily Sewell was a gentlewoman, 
and held rigidly to various traditions of gentility which had 
been handed down in the Sewell family, and which afforded 
her brother too much quiet amusement to be disturbed. He 
would not have overthrown one of her quiddities for the 
world ; it would be taking away a part of his capital in 
existence. 

Miss Emily was a trim, genteel little person, with dancing 
black eyes, and cheeks which had the roses of youth well 
dried into them. It was easy to see that she had been quite 
pretty in her days; and her neat figure, her brisk little 
vivacious ways, her unceasing good-nature and kindness of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


97 


heart, still made her an object both of admiration and inter- 
est in the parish. 

She was great in drying herbs and preparing recipes ; in 
knitting and sewing, and cutting and contriving; in saving 
every possible snip and chip either of food or clothing ; and 
no less liberal was she in bestowing advice and aid in the 
parish, where she moved about with all the sense of conse- 
quence which her brother’s position warranted. 

The fact of his bachelorhood caused his relations to the 
female part of his flock to be even more shrouded in sacred- 
ness and mystery than is commonly the case with the great 
man of the parish ; but Miss Emily delighted to act as in- 
terpreter. She was charmed to serve out to the willing ears 
of his parish from time to time such scraps of information 
as regarded his life, habits, and opinions as might gratify 
their ever new curiosity. 

Instructed by her, all the good wives knew the difference 
between his very best long silk stockings and his second 
best, and how carefully the first had to be kept under lock 
and key, where he could not get at them ; for he was under- 
stood, good as he was, to have concealed in him all the 
thriftless and pernicious inconsiderateness of the male 
nature, ready at any moment to break out into unheard-of 
improprieties. But the good man submitted himself to Miss 
Emily’s rule, and suffered himself to be led about by her 
with an air of half whimsical consciousness. 

Mrs. Kittridge that day had felt the full delicacy of the 
compliment when she ascertained by a hasty glance, before 
the first prayer, that the good man had been brought out to 
her funeral in all his very best things, not excepting the 
long silk stockings, for she knew the second-best pair by 
means of a certain skilful darn which Miss Emily had once 


5 


98 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


shown her, which commemorated the spot where a hole had 
been. The absence of this darn struck to Mrs. Kittridge’s 
heart at once as a delicate attention. 

“ Mis’ Simpkins,” said Mrs. Kittridge to her pastor, as 
they were seated at the tea-table, “ told me that she wished 
when you were going home that you would call in to see 
Mary Jane — she could n’t come out to the funeral on ac- 
count of a dreffle sore throat. I was tellin’ on her to gargle 
it with blackberry-root tea — don’t you think that is a good 
gargle, Mr. Sewell ? ” 

“ Yes, I think it a very good gargle,” replied the minister, 
gravely. 

“ Ma’sh rosemary is the gargle that I always use,” said 
Miss Roxy ; “ it cleans out your throat so.” 

“Marsh rosemary is a very excellent gargle,” said Mr. 
Sewell. 

“ Why, brother, don’t you think that rose leaves and vit- 
riol is a good gargle ? ” said little Miss Emily ; “ I always 
thought that you liked rose leaves and vitriol for a gargle.” 

“ So I do,” said the imperturbable Mr. Sewell, drinking 
his tea with the air of a sphinx. 

“ Well, now, you ’ll have to tell which on ’em will be most 
likely to cure Mary Jane,” said Captain Kittridge, “or 
there ’ll be a pullin’ of caps, I ’m thinkin’ ; or else the poor 
gill will have to drink them all, which is generally the 
way.” 

“There won’t any of them cure Mary Jane’s throat,” 
said the minister, quietly. 

“Why, brother!” “Why, Mr. Sewell!” “Why, you 
don’t ! ” burst in different tones from each of the women 

“ I thought you said that blackberry-root tea was good, 
said Mrs. Kittridge. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


99 


u I understood that you ’proved of ma’sli rosemary,” said 
Miss Roxy, touched in her professional pride. 

u And I am sure, brother, that I have heard you say, 
often and often, that there was n’t a better gargle than 
rose leaves and vitriol,” said Miss Emily. 

“ You are quite right, ladies, all of you. I think these 
are all good gargles — excellent ones.” 

“ But I thought you said that they didn't do any good ?” 
said all the ladies in a breath. 

“ No, they don’t — not the least in the world,” said Mr. 
Sewell ; “ but they are all excellent gargles, and as long as 
people must have gargles, I think one is about as good as 
another.” 

“ Now you have got it,” said Captain Kittridge. 

“ Brother, you do say the strangest things,” said Miss 
Emily. 

“ Well, I must say,” said Miss Roxy, “it is a new idea 
to me, long as I ’ve been nussin’, and I nussed through one 
season of scarlet fever when sometimes there was five died 
in one house ; and if ma’sh rosemary did n’t do good then, 
I should like to know what did.” 

“ So would a good many others,” said the minister. 

“ Law, now, Miss Roxy, you mus’ n’t mind him. Do you 
know that I believe he says these sort of things just to hear 
us talk ? Of course he would n’t think of puttin’ his experi- 
ence against yours.” 

“ But, Mis’ Kittridge,” said Miss Emily, with a view of 
summoning a less controverted subject, “ what a beautiful 
little boy that was, and what a striking providence that 
brought him into such a good family ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Kittridge ; “ but I ’m sure I don’t see 
what Mary Pennel is goin’ to do with that boy, for she a’n’t 
got no more government than a twisted tow-string.” 


100 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“Oh, the Cap’n, he’ll lend a hand,” said Miss Roxy 
“ it won’t be easy gettin’ roun’ him ; Cap’n bears a pretty 
steady hand when he sets out to drive.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Emily, “ I do think that bringin’ up 
children is the most awful responsibility, and I always won- 
der when I hear that any one dares to undertake it.” 

“ It requires a great deal of resolution, certainly,” said 
Mrs. Kittridge ; “I’m sure I used to get a’most discouraged 
when my boys was young : they was a reg’lar set of wild 
ass’s colts,” she added, not perceiving the reflection on their 
paternity. 

But the countenance of Mr. Sewell was all aglow with 
merriment, which did not brea^: into a smile. 

“ Wal’, Mis’ Kittridge,” said the Captain, “ strikes me 
that you’re gettin’ pussonal.” 

“ No, I a’n’t neither,” said the literal Mrs. Kittridge, 
ignorant of the cause of the amusement which she saw 
around her ; “ but you wa’ n’t no help to me, you know ; 
you was always off to sea, and the whole wear and tear 
on’t came on me.” . 

“Well, well, Polly, all’s well that ends well; don’t you 
think so, Mr. Sewell ? ” 

“ I have n’t much experience in these matters,” said Mr. 
Sewell, politely. 

“ No, indeed, that ’s what he has n’t, for he never will 
have a child round the house that he don’t turn everything 
topsy-turvy for them,” said Miss Emily. 

“ But I was going to remark,” said Mr. Sewell, “ that a 
friend of mine said once, that the woman that had brought 
up six boys deserved a seat among the martyrs — and that 
is rather my opinion.” 

“ Wal’, Polly, if you git up there, I hope you ’ll keep a 
seat for me.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


101 


“ Cap’n Kittridge, what levity ! ” said his wife. 

ft I did n’t begin it, anyhow,” said the Captain. 

Miss Emily interposed, and led the conversation back to 
the subject. 

“ What a pity it is,” she said, “ that this poor child’s 
family can never know anything about him. There may 
be those who would give all the world to know what has 
become of him ; and when he comes to grow up, how sad 
he will feel to have no father and mother ! ” 

“ Sister,” said Mr. Sewell, “ you cannot think that a child 
brought up by Captain Pennel and his wife would ever feel 
as without father and mother.” 

“ Why, no, brother, to be sure not. There *s no doubt he 
will have everything done for him that a child could. But 
then it ’s a loss to lose one’s real home.” 

“ It may be a gracious deliverance,” said Mr. Sewell — 
“who knows? We may as well take a cheerful view, and 
think that some kind wave has drifted the child away from 
an unfortunate destiny to a family where we are quite sure 
he will be brought up industriously and soberly, and in the 
fear of God.” 

“ Well, I never thought of that,” said Miss Roxy. 

Miss Emily, looking at her brother, saw that he was 
speaking with a suppressed vehemence, as if some inner 
fountain of recollection at the moment were disturbed. But 
Miss Emily knew no more of the deeper parts of her 
brother’s nature than a little bird that dips its beak into the 
sunny waters of some spring knows of its depths of cold- 
ness and shadow. 

“ Mis’ Pennel was a-sayin’ to me,” said Mrs. Kittridge, 
« that I should ask you what was to be done about the 
bracelet they found. We don’t know whether ’t is real gold 


102 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


and precious stones, or only glass and pinchbeck. Cap’n 
Kittridge he thinks it ’s real ; and if ’t is, why then the ques- 
tion is, whether or no to try to sell it, or to keep it for the 
boy agin he grows up. It may help find out who and what 
he is.” 

“ And why should he want to find out ? ” said Mr. Sewell. 
“^Why should he not grow up and think himself the son of 
Captain and Mrs. Pennel ? What better lot could a boy be 
born to?” 

“That may be, brother, but it can’t be kept from him. 
Everybody knows how he was found, and you may be sure 
every bird of the air will tell him, and he ’ll grow up restless 
and wanting to know. Mis’ Kittridge, have you got the 
bracelet handy ? ” 

The fact was, little Miss Emily was just dying with curi- 
osity to set her dancing black eyes upon it. 

“ Here it is,” said Mrs. Kittridge, taking it from a 
drawer. 

It was a bracelet of hair, of some curious foreign work- 
manship. A green enamelled serpent, studded thickly with 
emeralds and with eyes of ruby, was curled around the 
clasp. A crystal plate covered a wide flat braid of hair, on 
which the letters “ D. M.” were curiously embroidered in a 
cipher of seed pearls. The whole was in style and work- 
manship quite different from any jewelry which ordinarily 
meets one’s eye. 

But what was remarkable was the expression in Mr. 
Sewell’s face when this bracelet was put into his hand. 
Miss Emily had risen from table and brought it to him, 
leaning over him as she did so, and he turned his head a 
little to hold it in the light from the window, so that only 
she remarked the sudden expression of blank surprise and 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 103 

startled recognition which fell upon it. He seemed like a 
man who chokes down an exclamation ; and rising hastily, 
he took the bracelet to the window, and standing with his 
back to the company, seemed to examine it with the minut- 
est interest. After a few moments he turned and said, in a 
very composed tone, as if the subject were of no particular 
interest, — 

“ It is a singular article, so far as workmanship is con- 
cerned. The value of the gems in themselves is not great 
enough to make it worth while to sell it. It will be worth 
more as a curiosity than anything else. It will doubtless be 
an interesting relic to keep for the boy when he grows up.” 

“Well, Mr. Sewell, you keep it,” said Mrs. Kittridge; 
“ the Pennels told me to give it into your care.” 

“ I shall commit it to Emily here ; women have a native 
sympathy with anything in the jewelry line. She ’ll be 
sure to lay it up so securely that she won’t even know 
where it is herself.” 

“ Brother ! ” 

“ Come, Emily,” said Mr. Sewell, “ your hens will all go 
to roost on the wrong perch if you are not at home to see 
to them ; so, if the Captain will set us across to Harpswell, 
I think we may as well be going.” 

“ Why, what ’s your hurry ? ” said Mrs. Kittridge. 

“ Well,” said Mr. Sewell, “ firstly, there ’s the hens ; sec- 
ondly, the pigs ; and lastly, the cow. Besides I should n’t 
wonder if some of Emily’s admirers should call on her this 
evening, — never any saying when Captain Broad may 
come in.” 

“ Now, brother, you are too bad,” said Miss Emily, as she 
bustled about her bonnet and shawl. “Now, that’s all made 
jp out of whole cloth. Captain Broad called last week 


104 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


a Monday, to talk to you about the pews, and hardly spoke 
a word to me. You ought n’t to say such things, ’cause it 
raises reports.” 

“ Ah, well, then, I won’t again,” said her brother. “ I 
believe, after all, it was Captain Badger that called twice.’ 

“ Brother ! ” 

“ And left you a basket of apples the second time.” 

“ Brother, you know he only called to get some of my 
hoarhound for Mehitable’s cough.” 

“ Oh, yes, I remember.” 

“ If you don’t take care,” said Miss Emily, “ I ’ll tell 
where you call.” 

“ Come, Miss Emily, you must not mind him,” said Miss 
Roxy ; “ we all know his ways.” 

And now took place the grand leave-taking, which con- 
sisted first of the three women’s standing in a knot and all 
talking at once, as if their very lives depended upon saying 
everything they could possibly think of before they separat- 
ed, while Mr. Sewell and Captain Kittridge stood patiently 
waiting with the resigned air which the male sex commonly 
assume on such occasions ; and when, after two or three 
“ Come, Emily’s,” the group broke up only to form again on 
the door-step, where they were at it harder than ever, and 
a third occasion of the same sort took place at the bottom 
of the steps, Mr. Sewell was at last obliged by main force 
to drag his sister away in the middle of a sentence. 

Miss Emily watched her brother shrewdly all the way 
home, but all traces of any uncommon feeling had passed 
away, — and yet, with the restlessness of female curiosity, 
she felt quite sure that she had laid hold of the end of 
some skein of mystery, could she only find skill enough 
to unwind it. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


105 


She took up the bracelet, and held it in the fading even- 
ing light, and broke into various observations with regard 
to the singularity of the workmanship. 

Her brother seemed entirely absorbed in talking with 
Captain Kittridge about the brig Anna Maria, which was 
going to be launched from Pennel’s wharf next Wednes- 
day. 

But she, therefore, internally resolved to lie in wait for 
the secret in that confidential hour which usually preceded 
going to bed. 

Therefore, as soon as she had arrived at their quiet dwell- 
ing, she put in operation the most seducing little fire that 
ever crackled and snapped in a chimney, well knowing that 
nothing was more calculated to throw light into any hidden 
or concealed chamber of the soul than that enlivening blaze 
which danced so merrily on her well-polished andirons, and 
made the old chintz sofa and the time-worn furniture so rich 
in remembrances of family comfort. 

She then proceeded to divest her brother of his wig and 
his dress-coat, and to induct him into the flowing ease of a 
study-gown, crowning his well-shaven head with a black cap, 
and placing his slippers before the corner of a sofa nearest 
the fire. She observed him with satisfaction sliding iqto his 
seat, and then she trotted to a closet with a glass-door in the 
corner of the room, and took down an old, quaintly-shaped 
silver cup, which had been an heirloom in their family, and 
was the only piece of plate which their modern domestic 
establishment could boast ; and with this, down cellar she 
tripped, her little heels tapping lightly on each stair, and the 
hum of a song coming back after her as she sought the 
cider-barrel. Up again she came, and set the silver cup, 
with its clear amber contents, down by the fire, and then 
5 * 


106 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

busied herself in making just the crispest, nicest square of 
toast to be eaten with it, — for Miss Emily had conceived 
the idea that some little ceremony of this sort was absolutely 
necessary to do away all possible ill effects from a day’s la- 
bor, and secure an uninterrupted night’s repose. 

Having done all this, she took her knitting-work, and 
stationed herself just opposite to her brother. 

It was fortunate for Miss Emily that the era of daily 
journals had not yet arisen upon the earth, because if it had, 
after all her care and pains, her brother would probably 
have taken up the evening paper, and holding it between 
his face and her, have read an hour or so in silence ; but 
Mr. Sewell had not this resort. He knew perfectly well 
that he had excited his sister’s curiosity on a subject where 
he could not gratify it, and therefore he took refuge in a 
kind of mild, abstracted air of quietude which bid defiance 
to all her little suggestions. 

OO 

After in vain trying every indirect form, Miss Emily ap- 
proached the subject more pointedly. 

“ I thought that you looked very much interested in that 
poor woman to-day.” 

“ She had an interesting face,” said her brother, dryly. 

“ Was it like anybody that you ever saw ? ” said Miss 
Emily. 

Her brother did not seem to hear her, but, taking the 
tongs, picked up the two ends of a stick that had just fallen 
apart, and arranged them so as to make a new blaze. 

Miss Emily was obliged to repeat her question, whereat 
he started as one awakened out of a dream, and said, — 

“ Why, yes, he did n’t know but she did ; there were a 
good many women with black eyes and black hair, — Mrs. 
Kittridge, for instance.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


107 


“ Why, I don’t think that she looked like Mrs. Kittridge 
in the least,” said Miss Emily, warmly. 

i( Oh, well ! I did n’t say she did,” said her brother, look- 
ing drowsily at his watch ; “ why, Emily, it ’s getting rather 
late.” 

“ What made you look so when I showed you that brace- 
let ? ” said Miss Emily, determined now to push the war to 
the heart of the enemy’s country. 

“ Look how ? ” said her brother, leisurely moistening a 
bit of toast in his cider. 

“ Why, I never saw anybody look more wild and aston- 
ished than you did for a minute* or two.” 

“ I did, did I ? ” said her brother, in the same indifferent 
tone. “ My dear child, what an active imagination you 
have. Did you ever look through a prism, Emily ? ” 

“ Why, no, Theophilus ; what do you mean ? ” 

“ Well, if you should, you would see everybody and 
everything with a nice little bordering of rainbow around 
them ; now the rainbow is n’t on the things, but in ^the 
prism.” 

“ Well, what ’s that to the purpose ? ” said Miss Emily, 
rather bewildered. 

“ Why, just this : you women are so nervous and excita- 
ble, that you are very apt to see your friends and the world 
in general with some coloring just as unreal. I am sorry 
for you, child ie, but really I can’t help you to get up a ro- 
mance out of this bracelet. Well, good night, Emily, take 
good care of yourself and go to bed ; ” and Mr. Sewell went 
to his room, leaving poor Miss Emily almost persuaded out 
of the sight of her own eyes. 


108 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XL 

The little boy who had been added to the family of 
Zephaniah Pennel and his wife soon became a source of 
grave solicitude to that mild and long-suffering woman. 
For, as the reader may have seen, he was a resolute, self- 
willed little elf, and whatever his former life may have been, 
it was quite evident that these traits had been developed 
without any restraint. 

Mrs. Pennel, whose whole domestic experience had con- 
sisted in rearing one very sensitive and timid daughter, who 
needed for her development only an extreme of tenderness, 
and whose conscientiousness was a law unto herself, stood 
utterly confounded before the turbulent little spirit to which 
her loving-kindness had opened so ready an asylum, and she 
soon discovered that it is one thing to take a human being to 
bring up, and another to know what to do with it after it is 
taken. 

The child had the instinctive awe of Zephaniah which his 
manly nature and habits of command were fitted to inspire, 
so that morning and evening, when he was at home, he was 
demure enough ; but while the good man was away all day, 
and sometimes on fishing excursions which often lasted a 
week, there was a chronic state of domestic warfare — a 
succession of skirmishes, pitched battles, long treaties, with 
divers articles of capitulation, ending, as treaties are apt to 
do, in open rupture on the first convenient opportunity. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


109 


Mrs. Pennel sometimes reflected with herself mournfully, 
and with many self-disparaging sighs, what was the reason 
that young master somehow contrived to keep her far more 
in awe of him than he was of her. Was she not evidently, 
as yet at least, bigger and stronger than he, able to hold his 
rebellious little hands, to lift and carry him, and to shut him 
up, if so she willed, in a dark closet, and even to administer 
to him that discipline of the birch which Mrs. Kittridge 
often and forcibly recommended as the great secret of her 
family prosperity ? Was it not her doty, as everybody told 
her, to break his will while he was young ? — a duty which 
hung like a millstone round the peaceable creature’s neck, 
and weighed her down with a distressing sense of respon- 
sibility. 

Now, Mrs. Pennel was one of the people to whom self- 
sacrifice is constitutionally so much a nature, that self-denial 
for her must have consisted in standing up for her own 
rights, or having her own way when it crossed t^e will 
and pleasure of any one around her. All she wanted of 
a child, or in fact of any human creature, was something to 
love and serve. We leave it entirely to theologians to rec- 
oncile such facts with the theory of total depravity ; but it 
is a fact that there are a considerable number of women of 
this class. Their life would flow on very naturally if it 
might consist only in giving, never in withholding — only in 
praise, never in blame — only in acquiescence, never in con- 
flict — and the chief comfort of such women in religion is 
that it gives them at last an object for love without criticism, 
and for whom the utmost degree of self-abandonment is not 
idolatry but worship. 

Mrs. Pennel would gladly have placed herself and all she 
possessed at the disposition of the children ; they might have 


110 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


broken her china, dug in the garden with her silver spoons, 
made turf alleys in her best room, drummed on her ma- 
hogany tea-table, filled her muslin drawer with their choicest 
shells and sea-weed ; only Mrs. Pennel knew that such kind- 
ness was no kindness, and that in the dreadful word respon- 
sibility, familiar to every New England mother’s ear, there 
lay an awful summons to deny and to conflict where she 
could so much easier have conceded. 

She saw that the tyrant little will would reign without 
mercy, if it reigned at all, and ever present with her was the 
uneasy sense that it was her duty to bring this erratic little 
comet within the laws of a well-ordered solar system, — a 
task to which she felt about as competent as to make a new 
ring for Saturn. Then, too, there was a secret feeling, if 
the truth must be told, of what Mrs. Kittridge would think 
about it ; for duty is never more formidable than when she 
gets on the cap and gown of a neighbor ; and Mrs. Kit- 
tridge, with her resolute voice and declamatory family gov- 
ernment, had always been a secret source of uneasiness to 
poor Mrs. Pennel, who was one of those sensitive souls who 
can feel for a mile or more the sphere of a stronger neigh- 
bor. During all the years that they had lived side by side, 
there had been this shadowy, unconfessed feeling on the part 
of poor Mrs. Pennel, that Mrs. Kittridge thought her de- 
ficient in her favorite virtue of “ resolution,” as, in fact, in 
her inmost soul she knew she was ; — but who wants to have 
one’s weak places looked into by the sharp eyes of a neigh- 
bor who is strong precisely where we are weak? The 
trouble that one neighbor may give to another, simply by 
living within a mile of one, is incredible ; but until this new 
accession to her family, Mrs. Pennel had always' been able 
to comfort herself with the idea that the child under her 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Ill 


particular training was as well-behaved as any of those of 
her more demonstrative friend. But now, all this consola- 
tion had been put to flight ; she could not meet Mrs. Kit- 
tridge without most humiliating recollections. 

On Sundays, when those sharp black eyes gleamed upon 
her through the rails of the neighboring pew, her very soul 
shrank within her, as she recollected all the compromises 
and defeats of the week before. It seemed to her that Mrs. 
Kittridge saw it all, — how she had ingloriously bought 
peace with gingerbread, instead of maintaining it by right- 
ful authority, — how young master had sat up till nine 
o’clock on divers occasions, and even kept little Mara up 
for his lordly pleasure. 

How she trembled at every movement of the child in the 
pew, dreading some patent and open impropriety which 
should bring scandal on her government ! This was the 
more to be feared, as the first effort to initiate the youthful 
neophyte in the decorums of the sanctuary had proved any- 
thing but a success, — insomuch that Zephaniah Pennel had 
been obliged to carry him out from the church ; therefore, 
poor Mrs. Pennel was thankful every Sunday when she 
got her little charge home without any distinct scandal and 
breach of the peace. 

But, after all, he was such a handsome and engaging little 
wretch, attracting all eyes wherever he went, and so full of 
saucy drolleries, that it seemed to Mrs. Pennel that every- 
thing and everybody conspired to help her spoil him. 

There are two classes of human beings in this world : one 
class seem made to give love, and the other to take it. Now 
Mrs. Pennel and Mara belonged to the first class, and little 
Master Moses to the latter. 

It was, perhaps, of service to the little girl to give to her 


112 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

delicate, shrinking, highly nervous organization the constant 
support of a companion so courageous, so richly blooded, 
and highly vitalized as the boy seemed to be. There was a 
fervid, tropical richness in his air that gave one a sense of 
warmth in looking at him, and made his Oriental name 
seem in good-keeping. He seemed an exotic that might 
have waked up under fervid Egyptian suns, and been found 
cradled among the lotus blossoms of old Nile, and the fair 
golden-haired girl seemed to be gladdened by his compan- 
ionship, as if he supplied an element of vital warmth to her 
being. She seemed to incline toward him as naturally as a 
needle to a magnet.. 

The child’s quickness of ear and the facility with which he 
picked up English were marvellous to observe. Evidently, 
he had been somewhat accustomed to the sound of it before, 
for there dropped out of his vocabulary, after he began to 
speak, phrases which would seem to betoken a longer 
familiarity with its idioms than could be equally accounted 
for by his present experience. Though the English evi- 
dently was not his native language, there had yet appar- 
ently been some effort to teach it to him — although the 
terror and confusion of the shipwreck seemed at first to 
have washed every former impression from his mind. 

But whenever any attempt was made to draw him to 
speak of the past, of his mother, or of where he came from, 
his brow lowered gloomily, and he assumed that kind of 
moody, impenetrable gravity, which children at times will 
so strangely put on, and which baflde all attempts to look 
within them. Zephaniah Pennel used to call it putting up 
his dead-lights. 

Pei haps it was the dreadful association of agony and ter- 
ror connected with the shipwreck, that thus confused and 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


113 


darkened the mirror of his mind the moment it was turned 
backward ; but it was thought wisest by his new friends to 
avoid that class of subjects altogether — indeed, it was their 
wish that he might forget the past entirely, and remember 
them as his only parents. 

Miss Roxy and Miss Ruey came duly as appointed to in- 
itiate the young pilgrim into the habiliments of a Yankee 
boy, endeavoring, at the same time, to drop into his mind 
such seeds of moral wisdom as might make the internal 
economy in time correspond to the exterior. 

But Miss Roxy declared that “of all the children that 
ever she see, he beat all for finding out new mischief, — the 
moment you ’d make him understand he must n’t do one 
thing, he was right at another.” 

One of his exploits, however, had very nearly been the 
means of cutting short the materials of our story in the 
outset. 

It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and the three women, 
being busy together with their stitching, had tied a sun- 
bonnet on little Mara, and turned the two loose upon the 
beach to pick up shells. 

All was serene, and quiet, and retired, and no possible 
danger could be apprehended. So up and^ down they 
trotted, till the spirit of adventure which ever burned in 
the breast of little Moses caught sight of a small canoe 
which had been moored just under the shadow of a cedar- 
covered rock. 

Forthwith he persuaded his little neighbor to go into it, 
and for a while they made themselves very gay, rocking it 
from side to side. 

The tide was going out, and each retreating wave washed 
the boat up and down, till it came into the boy’s curly head 


114 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


how beautiful it would be to sail out as he had seen men do, 

— and so, with much puffing and earnest tugging of his little 
brown hands, the boat at last was loosed from her moorings 
and pushed out on the tide, when both children laughed 
gayly to find themselves swinging and balancing on the 
amber surface, and watching the rings and sparkles of sun- 
shine and the white pebbles below. Little Moses was 
glorious, — his adventures had begun, — and with a fairy- 
princess in his boat, he was going to stretch away to some 
of the islands of dream-land. He persuaded Mara to give 
him her pink sun-bonnet, which he placed for a pennon on a 
stick at the end of the boat, while he made a vehement 
dashing with another, first on one side of the boat and then 
on the other, — spattering the water in diamond showers, to 
the infinite amusement of the little maiden. 

Meanwhile the tide waves danced them out and still out- 
ward, and as they went farther and farther from shore, the 
more glorious felt the boy. He^had got Mara all to himself, 
and was going away .with her from all grown people, who 
would n’t let children do as they pleased, — who made them 
sit still in prayer-time, and took them to meeting, and kept 
so many things which they must not touch, or open, or play 
with. Two white sea-gulls came flying toward the children, 
and they stretched their little arms in welcome, nothing 
doubting but these fair creatures were coming at once to 
take passage with them for fairy-land. But the birds only 
dived and shifted and veered, turning their silvery sides 
toward the sun, and careering in circles round the children. 
A brisk little breeze, that came hurrying down from the 
land, seemed disposed to favor their unsubstantial enterprise, 

— for your winds, being a fanciful, uncertain tribe of people, 
are always for falling in with anything that is contrary to 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


115 


common sense. So the wind trolled them merrily along, 
nothing doubting that there might be time, if they hurried, 
to land their boat on the shore of some of the low-banked 
red clouds that lay in the sunset, where they could pick up 
shells, — blue and pink and purple, — enough to make 
them rich for life. The children were all excitement at the 
rapidity with which their little bark danced and rocked, as 
it floated outward to the broad, open ocean, — at the blue, 
freshening waves, at the silver-glancing gulls, at the floating, 
white-winged ships, and at vague expectations of going 
rapidly somewhere, to something more beautiful still. And 
what the happiness of the brightest hours of grown people 
more than this ? 

“ Roxy,” said Aunt Ruey innocently, “ seems to me I 
have n’t heard nothin’ o’ them children lately. They ’re so 
still, I ’m ’fraid there ’s some mischief.” 

“ Well, Ruey, you jist go and give a look at ’em,” said 
Miss Roxy. “ I declare, that boy ! I never know what he 
will do next ; but there did n’t seem to be nothin’ to get into 
out there but the sea, and the beach is so shelving, a body 
can’t well fall into that.” 

Alas ! good Miss Roxy, the children are at this moment 
tilting up and down on the waves, half a mile out to sea, as 
airily happy as the sea-gulls ; and little Moses now thinks, 
with glorious scorn, of you and your press-board, as of grim 
shadows of restraint and bondage that shall never darken 
his free life more. 

Both Miss Roxy and Mrs. Pennel were, however, startled 
into a paroxysm of alarm when poor Miss Ruey came 
screaming, as she entered the door, — 

“ As sure as you V alive, them chil’en are off in the boat, 
— they Y out to sea, sure as I ’m alive ! What shall we 
do ? The boat ’ll upset, and the sharks ’ll get ’em.” 


116 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Miss Roxy ran to the window, and saw dancing and 
courtesying on the blue waves the little pinnace, with its 
fanciful pink pennon fluttered gayly by the indiscreet and 
flattering wind. 

Poor Mrs. Pennel ran to the shore, and stretched her 
arms wildly, as if she would have followed them across the 
treacherous blue floor that heaved and sparkled between 
them. 

“ Oh, Mara, Mara ! oh, my poor little girl ! oh, poor 
children ! ” 

“ Well, if ever I see such a young un as that,” soliloquized 
Miss Roxy from the chamber-window; “there ti^ey be, 
dancin’ and giggitin’ about ; — they ’ll have the boat upset 
in a minit, and the sharks are waitin’ for ’em, no doubt. I 
b’lieve that ar young un ’s helped by the Evil One, — not a 
boat round, else I ’d push off after ’em. Well, I don’t see 
but we must trust in the Lord, — there don’t seem to be 
much else to trust to,” said the spinster, as she drew her 
head in grimly. 

To say the truth, there was some reason for the terror of 
these most fearful suggestions ; for not far from the place 
where the children embarked was Zephaniah’s fish-drying 
ground, and multitudes of sharks came up with every rising 
tide, allured by the offal that was here constantly thrown 
into the sea. Two of these prowlers, outward-bound from 
their quest, were even now assiduously attending the little 
boat, and the children derived no small amusement from 
watching their motions in the pellucid water, — the boy oc- 
casionally almost upsetting the boat by valorous plunges at 
them with his stick. It was the most exhilarating and 
piquant entertainment he had found for many a day ; and 
little Mara laughed in chorus at every lunge that he made. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


117 


What would have been the end of it all it is difficult to 
say, had not some mortal power interfered before they had 
sailed finally away into the sunset. 

But it so happened on this very afternoon, Rev. Mr. 
Sewell was out in a boat, busy in the very apostolic em- 
ployment of catching fish, and looking up from one of the 
contemplative pauses which his occupation induced, he 
rnbbed his eyes at the apparition which presented itself. 

A tiny little shell of a boat came drifting toward him, in 
which was a black-eyed boy, with cheeks like a pomegran- 
ate, and lustrous tendrils of silky dark hair, and a little 
golden-haired girl, white as a water-lily, and looking ethereal 
enough to have risen out of the sea-foam. Both were in the 
very sparkle and effervescence of that fanciful glee which 
bubbles up from the golden, untried fountains of early child- 
hood. 

Mr. Sewell, at a glance, comprehended the whole, and at 
once overhauling the tiny craft, he broke the spell of fairy- 
land, and constrained the little people to return to the con- 
fines, dull and dreary, of real and actual life. 

Neither of them had known a doubt or a fear in that joy- 
ous trance of forbidden pleasure, which shadowed with so 
many fears the wiser and more far-seeing heads and hearts 
of the grown people ; nor was there enough language yet in 
common between the two classes to make the little ones 
comprehend the risk they had run. 

Perhaps so do our elder brothers, in our Father’s house, 
look anxiously out when we are sailing gayly over life’s sea, 
— over unknown depths, — amid threatening monsters, — 
but want words to tell us why what seems so bright is so 
dangerous. 

Duty herself could not have worn a more rigid aspect 


118 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

than Miss Roxy, as she stood on the beach, press-board in 
hand ; for she had forgotten to lay it down in the eagerness 
of her anxiety. She essayed to lay hold of the little hand 
of Moses to pull him from the boat, but he drew back, and, 
looking at her with a world of defiance in his great eyes, 
jumped magnanimously upon the beach. 

The spirit of Sir Francis Drake and of Christopher Colum- 
bus was swelling in his little body, and was he to be brought 
under by a dry-visaged woman with a press-board ? 

In fact, nothing is more ludicrous about the escapades of 
children than the utter insensibility they feel to the dangers 
they have run, and the light esteem in which they hold the 
deep tragedy they create. 

That night, when Zephaniah, in his evening exercise, 
poured forth most fervent thanksgivings for the deliver- 
ance, while Mrs. Pennel was sobbing in her handkerchief, 
Miss Roxy was much scandalized by seeing the young cause 
of all the disturbance sitting upon his heels, regarding the 
emotion of the kneeling party with his wide bright eyes, 
without a wink of compunction. 

“ Well, for her part,” she said, “ she hoped Cap’n Pennel 
would be blessed in takin’ that ar boy ; but she was sure she 
did n’t see much that looked like it now.” 

* * * * * . * * 

The Rev. Mr. Sewell fished no more that day, for the 
draught from fairy-land with which he had filled his boat 
brought up many thoughts into his mind, which he pondered 
anxiously. 

“ Strange ways of God,” he thought, “ that should send to 
my door this child, and should wash upon the beach the only 
sign by which he could be identified. To what end or pur- 
pose ? Hath the Lord a will in this matter, and what is it ? ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


119 


So he thought as he slowly rowed homeward, and so did 
his thoughts work upon him that half way across the bay to 
Harpswell he slackened his oar without knowing it, and the 
boat lay drifting on the purple and gold tinted mirror, like a 
speck between two eternities. Under such circumstances, 
even heads that have worn the clerical wig for years at 
times get a little dizzy and dreamy. Perhaps it was because 
of the impression made upon him by the sudden apparition 
of those great dark eyes and sable curls, that he now thought 
of the boy that he had found floating that afternoon, looking 
as if some tropical flower had been washed landward by a 
monsoon ; and as the boat rocked and tilted, and the minister 
gazed dreamily downward into the wavering rings of purple, 
orange, and gold which spread out and out from it, gradually 
it seemed to him that a face much like the child’s formed 
itself in the waters ; but it was the face of a girl, young 
and radiantly beautiful, yet with those same eyes and curls, 
— he saw her distinctly, with her thousand rings of silky 
hair, bound with strings of pearls and clasped with strange 
gems, and she raised one arm imploringly to him, and on the 
wrist he saw the bracelet embroidered with seed pearls, and 
the letters D. M. “ Ah, Dolores,” he said, “ well wert thou 
called so. Poor Dolores ! I cannot help thee.” 

“ What am I dreaming of? ” said the Rev. Mr. Sewell. 
“ It is my Thursday evening lecture on Justification, and 
Emily has got tea ready, and here I am catching cold out on 
the bay.” 


120 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XII. 

Mr. Sewell, as the reader may perhaps have inferred, 
was of a nature profoundly secretive. 

It was in most things quite as pleasant for him to keep 
matters to himself, as it was to Miss Emily to tell them to 
somebody else. 

She resembled more than anything one of those trotting, 
chattering little brooks that enliven the “ back lot ” of many 
a New England home, while he was like one of those wells 
you shall sometimes see by a deserted homestead, so long 

unused that ferns and lichens feather every stone down to 

- « 

the dark, cool water. 

Dear to him was the stillness and coolness of inner 
thoughts with which no stranger intermeddles ; dear to him 
every pendent fern-leaf of memory, every dripping moss of 
old recollection ; and though the waters of his soul came up 
healthy and refreshing enough when one really must have 
them, yet one had to go armed with bucket and line and 
draw them up, — they never flowed. 

One of his favorite maxims was, that the only way to 
keep a secret was never to let any one suspect that you 
have one. And as he had one now, he had, as you have 
seen, done his best to baffle and put to sleep the feminine 
curiosity of his sister. 

He rather wanted to tell her, too, for he was a good-na- 
tured brother, and would have liked to have given her the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


121 


amount of pleasure the confidence would have produced ; but 
then he reflected with dismay on the number of women in 
his parish with whom Miss Emily was on tea-drinking terms, 
— he thought of the wondrous solvent powers of that bev- 
erage in whose amber depths so many resolutions, yea, and 
solemn vows, of utter silence have been dissolved like Cleo- 
patra’s pearls. 

He knew that an infusion of his secret would steam up 
from every cup of tea Emily should drink for six months to 
come, till gradually every particle would be dissolved and 
float in the air of common fame. No; it would not do. 

You would have thought, however, that something was the 
matter with Mr. Sewell, had you seen him after he retired 
for the night after he had so very indifferently dismissed the 
subject of Miss Emily’s inquiries. For instead of retiring 
quietly to bed, as had been his habit for years at that hour, 
he locked his door, and then unlocked a desk of private 
papers, and emptied certain pigeon-holes of their contents, 
and for an hour or two sat unfolding and looking over old 
letters and papers, — and when all this was done, he pushed 
them from him and sat for a long time buried in thoughts 
which went down very, very deep into that dark and mossy 
well of which we have spoken. 

Then he took a pen and wrote a letter, and addressed it 
to a direction for which he had searched through many piles 
of paper, and having done so, seemed to ponder, uncertainly, 
whether to send it or not. The Harpswell post-office was 
kept in Mr. Silas Perrit’s store, and the letters were every 
one of them carefully and curiously investigated by all the 
gossips of the village, and as this was addressed to St. Augus- 
tine in Florida, he foresaw that before Sunday the news 
would be in every mouth in the parish that the minister 


122 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

had written to so and so in Florida, “ and what do you s’pose 
it ’s about ? ” 

“ No, no,” he said to himself, “ that will never do ; but at 
all events there is no hurry,” and he put back the papers in 
order, put the letter with them, and locking his desk, looked 
at his watch and found it to be two o’clock, and so he went 
to bed to think the matter over. 

Now, there may be some reader so simple as to feel a por- 
tion of Miss Emily’s curiosity. But, my friend, restrain it, 
for Mr. Sewell will certainly, as we foresee, become less 
rather than more communicative on this subject, as he 
thinks upon it. 

Nevertheless, whatever it be that he knows or suspects, it 
is something which leads him to contemplate with more than 
usual interest this little mortal waif that has so strangely 
come ashore in his parish. 

He mentally resolves to study the child as minutely as 
possible, without betraying that he has any particular reason 
for being interested in him. 

Therefore, in the latter part of this mild November after- 
noon, which he has devoted to pastoral visiting, about two 
months after the funeral, he steps into his little sail-boat, and 
stretches away for the shores of Orr’s Island. He knows 
the sun will be down before he reaches there ; but he sees 
in the opposite horizon, the spectral, shadowy moon, only 
waiting for daylight to be gone to come out, calm and ra- 
diant, like a saintly friend neglected in the flush of pros- 
perity, who waits patiently to enliven our hours of darkness. 

As his boat-keel grazed the sands on the other side, a 
shout of laughter came upon his ear from behind a cedar- 
covered rock, and soon emerged Captain Kittridge, as long 
and lean and brown as the Ancient Mariner, carrying little 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


123 


Mara on one shoulder, while Sally and little Moses Pennel 
trotted on before. 

It was difficult to say who in this whole group was in the 
highest spirits. The fact was that Mrs. Kittridge had gone 
to a tea-drinking over at Maquoit, and left the Captain as 
house-keeper and general .overseer ; and little Mara and 
Moses and Sally had been gloriously keeping holiday with 
him down by the boat-cove, where, to say the truth, few 
shavings were made, except those necessary to adorn the 
children’s heads with flowing suits of curls of a most ex- 
traordinary effect. The aprons of all of them were full of 
these most unsubstantial specimens of woody treasure, which 
hung out in long festoons, looking of a yellow transparency 
in the evening light. But the delight of the children in 
their acquisitions was only equalled by that of grown-up 
people in possessions equally fanciful in value. 

The mirth of the little party, however, came to a sudden 
pause as they met the minister. Mara clung tight to the 
Captain’s neck, and looked out slyly under her curls. But 
the little Moses made a step forward, and fixed his bold, dark, 
inquisitive eyes upon him. The fact was, that the minister 
had been impressed upon the boy, in his few visits to the 
« meeting,” as such a grand and mysterious reason for good 
behavior, that he seemed resolved to embrace the first oppor- 
tunity to study him close at hand. 

« Well, my little man,” said Mr. Sewell, with an affability 
which he could readily assume with children, “ you seem to 
like to look at me.” 

“ I do like to look at you,” said the boy gravely, continu- 
ing to fix his great black eyes upon him. 

“ I see you do, my little fellow.” 

“ Are you the Lord ? ” said the child, solemnly. 


124 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


u Am I what ? ” 

“ The Lord,” said the boy. 

“ No, indeed, my lad,” said Mr. Sewell, smiling. “ Why 
what put that into your little head ? ” 

“ I thought you were,” said the boy, still continuing to 
study the pastor with attention. Miss Roxy said so.” 

“ It ’s curious what notions chil’en will get in their heads,” 
said Captain Kittridge. “ They put this and that together, 
and think it over, and come out with such queer things.” 

“ But,” said the minister, “ I have brought something for 
you all ; ” saying which he drew from his. pocket three little 
bright-cheeked apples, and gave one to each child ; and then 
taking the hand of the little Moses in his own, he walked 
with him toward the house-door. 

Mrs. Pennel was sitting in her clean kitchen, busily spin- 
ning at the little wheel, and rose flushed with pleasure at 
the honor that was done her. 

“ Pray, walk in, Mr. Sew T ell,” she said, rising, and leading 
the way toward the penetralia of the best room. 

“ Now, Mrs. Pennel, I am come here for a good sit-down 
by your kitchen-fire this evening,” said Mr. Sewell. “ Em- 
ily has gone out to sit with old Mrs. Broad, who is laid up 
with the rheumatism, and so 1 am turned loose to pick up 
my living on the parish, and you must give me a seat for a 
while in your kitchen corner. Best rooms are always cold.” 

“ The minister ’s right,” said Captain Kittridge. “ When 
rooms ant much set in, folks never feel so kind o’ natural 
in ’em. So you jist let me put on a good back-log and fore- 
stick, and build up a fire to tell stories by this evening. My 
wife s gone out to tea, too,” he said, with an elastic skip. 

And in a few moments the Captain had produced in the 
great cavernous chimney a foundation for a fire that prom 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


125 


ised breadth, solidity, and continuance. A great back-log, 
embroidered here and there with tufts of green or grayish 
moss, was first flung into the capacious arms of the fire- 
place, and a smaller log placed above it. 

“ Now, all you young uns go out and bring in chips,” said 
the Captain. “ There ’s capital ones out to the wood-pile.” 

Mr. Sewell was pleased to see the flash that came from 
the eyes of little Moses at this order — how energetically 
he ran before the others, and came with glowing cheeks and 
distended arms, throwing down great w r hite chips with their 
green mossy bark, scattering tufts on the floor. 

“ Good,” said he softly to himself, as he leaned on the top 
of his gold-headed cane ; “ there’s energy, ambition, mus- 
cle ; ” and he nodded his head once or twice to some internal 
decision. 

“ There ! ” said the Captain, rising out of a perfect whirl- 
wind of chips and pine kindlings with which in his zeal he 
had bestrown the wide, black stone hearth, and pointing to 
the tongues of flame that were leaping and blazing up 
through the crevices of the dry pine wood which he had in- 
termingled plentifully with the more substantial fuel, — 
“ there, Mis’ Pennel, a’n’t I a master-hand at a fire ? But 
I’m really sorry I’ve dirtied your floor,” he said, as he 
brushed down his pantaloons, which were covered with bits 
of grizzly moss, and looked on the surrounding desolations ; 
“give me a broom, I can sweep up now as well as any 
woman.” 

“ Oh, never mind,” said Mrs. Pennel, laughing, “ I ’ll 
sweep up.” 

“ Well, now, Mis’ Pennel, you ’re one of the women that 
don’t get put out easy ; a’n’t ye ? ” said the Captain, still 
contemplating his fire with a proud and watchful eye. 


126 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


« Law me ! ” he exclaimed, glancing through the window, 
« there *s the Cap’n a-comin’. I ’m jist goin’ to give a look at 
what he ’s brought in. Come, chil’en,” and the Captain dis- 
appeared with all three of the children at his heels, to go 
down to examine the treasures of the fishing-smack. 

Mr. Sewell seated himself coseyly in the chimney-corner, 
and sank into a state of half-dreamy re very ; his eyes fixed 
on the fairest sight one can see of a frosty autumn twilight 
— a crackling wood-fire. 

Mrs. Pennel moved soft-footed to and fro, arraying her 
tea-table in her own finest and pure damask, and bringing 
from hidden stores her best china and newest silver, her 
choicest sweetmeats and cake — whatever was fairest and 
nicest in her house — to honor her unexpected guest. 

Mr. Sewell’s eyes followed her occasionally about the 
room, with an expression of pleased and curious satisfaction. 
He was taking it all in as an artistic picture — that simple, 
kindly hearth, with its mossy logs, yet steaming with the 
moisture of the wild woods — the table so neat, so cheery, 
with its many little delicacies, and refinements of appoint- 
ment, and its ample varieties to tempt the appetite — and 
then the Captain coming in, yet fresh and hungry from his 
afternoon’s toil, with the children trotting before him. 

“And this is the inheritance he comes into,” he mur- 
mured ; “ healthy — wholesome — cheerful — secure : how 
much better than hot, stifling luxury ! ” 

Here the minister’s meditations were interrupted by the 
entrance of all the children, joyful and loquacious. Little 
Moses held up a string of mackerel, with their graceful 
bodies and elegantly cut fins. 

“ Just a specimen of the best, Mary,” said Captain Pen 
nel. “ I thought I ’d bring ’em for Miss Emily.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


127 


w Miss Emily will be a thousand times obliged to you,” 
said Mr. Sewell, rising up. 

As to Mara and Sally, they were revelling in apronsful of 
shells and sea-weed, which they bustled into the other room 
to bestow in their spacious baby-house. 

And now, after due time for Zephaniah to assume a land 
toilet, all sat down to the evening meal. 

After supper was over, the Captain was besieged by the 
children. Little Mara mounted first into his lap, and nestled 
herself quietly under his coat — Moses and Sally stood at 
each knee. 

“ Come, now,” said Moses, “ you said you would tell us 
about the mermen to-night.” 

“ Yes, and. the mermaids,” said Sally. “ Tell them all you 
told me the other night in the trundle-bed.” 

Sally valued herself no little on the score of the Captain’s 
talent as a romancer. 

“ You see, Moses,” she said, volubly, “ father saw mermen 
and mermaids a plenty of them in the West Indies.” 

“ Oh, never mind about ’em now,” said Captain Kittridge, 
looking at Mr. Sewell’s corner. 

“ Why not, father ? mother is n’t here,” said Sally, inno- 
cently. 

A smile passed round the faces of the company, and Mr. 
Sewell said, “ Come, Captain, no modesty ; we all know 
you have as good a faculty for telling a story as for making 
a fire.” 

“ Do tell me what mermen are ? ” *said Moses. 

“ Wal’,” said the Captain, sinking his voice confidentially, 
and hitching his chair a little around, “ mermen and maids 
is a kind o’ people that have their world jist like our ’n, 
only it ’s down in the bottom of the sea, ’cause the bottom 


128 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


of the sea has its mountains and its valleys, and its trees 
and its bushes, and it stands to reason there should be peo- 
ple there too.” 

Moses opened his broad black eyes wider than usual, and 
looked absorbed attention. 

44 Tell ’em about how you saw ’em,” said Sally. 

“ Wal’, yes,” said Captain Kittridge, 44 once when I was 
to the Bahamas, — it was one Sunday morning in June, the 
first Sunday in the month, — we cast anchor pretty nigh a 
reef of coral, and I was jist a-sittin’ down to read my 
Bible, when up comes a merman over the side of the ship, 
all dressed as fine as any old beau that ever ye see, with 
cocked-hat and silk stockings, and shoe-buckles, and his 
clothes were sea-green, and his shoe-buckles shone like 
diamonds.” 

“ Do you suppose they were diamonds, really ? ” said 
Sally. 

44 Wal’, child, I did n’t ask him, but I should n’t be sur- 
prised, from all I know of their ways, if they was,” said the 
Captain, who had now got so wholly into the spirit of his 
fiction that he no longer felt embarrassed by the minister’s 
presence, nor saw the look of amusement with which he was 
listening to him in his chimney-corner. “ But, as I was 
sayin’, he came up to me, and made the politest bow that 
ever ye see, and says he, 4 Cap’n Kittridge, I presume,’ and 
says I, 4 Yes, sir.’ 4 1 ’m sorry to interrupt your reading,’ 
says he ; and says I, 4 Oh, no matter, sir.’ 4 But,’ says he, 
4 if you would only be so good as to move your anchor. 
You ’ve cast* anchor right before my front-door, and my 
wife and family can’t get out to go to meetin’.’ ” 

44 Why, do they go to meeting in the bottom of the sea?” 
said Moses. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


129 


“ Law, bless you sonny, yes. Why, Sunday morning, 
when the sea was all still, I used to hear the bass-viol a- 
soundin’ down under the waters, jist as plain as could be, 
— and psalms and preachin’. I ’ve reason to think there ’s 
as many hopefully pious mermaids as there be folks,” said 
the Captain. 

“ But,” said Moses, “ you said the anchor was before the 
front -door, so the family could n’t get out, — how did the 
merman get out ? ” 

“ Oh ! he got out of the scuttle on the roof,” said the 
Captain, promptly. 

“ And did you move your anchor ? ” said Moses. 

“ Why, child, yes, to be sure I did ; he was such a gen- 
tleman, I wanted to oblige him, — it shows you how impor- 
tant it is always to be polite,” said the Captain, by way of 
giving a moral turn to his narrative. 

Mr. Sewell, during the progress of this story, examined 
the Captain with eyes of amused curiosity. His counte- 
nance was as fixed and steady, and his whole manner of 
reciting as matter-of-fact and collected, as if he were relat- 
ing some of the every-day affairs of his boat-building. 

“ Wal’, Sally,” said the Captain, rising, after his yarn 
had proceeded for an indefinite length in this manner, “ you 
and I must be goin’. I promised your ma you should n’t 
be up late, and we have a long walk home, — besides it ’s 
time these little folks was in bed.” 

The children all clung round the Captain, and could 
hardly be persuaded to let him go. 

When he was gone, Mrs. Pennel took the little ones to 
their nest in an adjoining room. 

Mr. Sewell approached his chair to that of Captain Pen- 
nel, and began talking to him in a tone of voice so low, that 


130 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Ave have never been able to make out exactly what he was 
saying. 

Whatever it might be, however, it seemed to give rise to 
an anxious consultation. 

“ I did not think it advisable to tell any one this but 
yourself, Captain Pennel. It is for you to decide, in view 
of the probabilities I have told you, what you will do.” 

“ Well,” said Zephaniah, “ since you leave it to me, I 
say, let us keep him. It certainly seems a marked provi- 
dence that he has been thrown upon us as he has, and the 
Lord seemed to prepare a way for him in our hearts. I 
am well able to afford it, and Mis’ Pennel, she agrees to it, 
and on the whole I don’t think we ’d best go back on our 
steps ; besides, our little Mara has- thrived since he came 
under our roof. He is, to be sure, kind o’ masterful, and 
I shall have to take him off Mis’ Pennel’s hands before 
long, and put him into the sloop. But, after all, there seems 
to be the makin’ of a man in him, and when we are called 
away, why he ’ll be as a brother to poor little Mara. Yes, 
I think it ’s best as ’t is.” 

The minister, as he flitted across the bay by moonlight, 
felt relieved of a burden. His secret was locked up as 
safe in the breast of Zephaniah Pennel as it could be in 
his own. 


THE PEA&L OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


131 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Zephaniah Pennel was what might be called a Hebrew 
of the Hebrews. 

New England, in her earlier days, founding her institu- 
tions on the Hebrew Scriptures, bred better Jews than 
Moses could, because she read Moses with the amendments 
of Christ. 

The state of society in some of the districts of Maine, in 
these days, much resembled in its spirit that which Moses 
labored to produce in ruder ages. It was entirely demo- 
cratic, simple, grave, hearty, and sincere, — solemn and 
religious in its daily tone, and yet, as to all material good, 
full of wholesome thrift and prosperity. Perhaps, taking 
the average mass of the people, a more healthful and desir- 
able state of society never existed. Its better specimens 
had a simple Doric grandeur unsurpassed in any age. 

The bringing up a child in this state of society was a 
far more simple enterprise than in our modern times, when 
the factitious wants and aspirations are so much more de- 
veloped. 

Zephaniah Pennel was as high as anybody in the land. 
He owned not only the neat little schooner, “ Brilliant,” 
with divers small fishing-boats, but also a snug farm, ad- 
joining the brown house, together with some fresh, juicy 
pasture-lots on neighboring islands, where he raised mutton, 
unsurpassed even by the English South-down, and wool, 


132 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


which furnished homespun to clothe his family on all every- 
day occasions. 

Mrs. Pennel, to be sure, had silks and satins, and flow- 
ered India chintz, and even a Cashmere shawl, the fruits of 
some of her husband’s earlier voyages, which were, how- 
ever, carefully stowed away for occasions so high and mighty, 
that they seldom saw the light. 

Not to wear best things every day , was a maxim of 
New England thrift, as little disputed as any verse of the 
catechism ; and so Mrs. Pennel found the stuff gown of her 
own dyeing and spinning so respectable for most purposes, 
that it figured even in the meeting-house itself, except on 
the very finest of Sundays, when heaven and earth seemed 
alike propitious. 

A person can well afford to wear homespun stuff to meet- 
ing, who is buoyed up by a secret consciousness of an abun- 
dance of fine things that could be worn, if one were so 
disposed, and everybody respected Mrs. Pennel’s homespun 
the more, because they thought of the things she did n’t 
wear. 

As to advantages of education, the island, like all other 
New England districts, had its common school, where one 
got the key of knowledge, — for having learned to read, 
write, and cipher, the young fellow of those regions com- 
monly regarded himself as in possession of all that a man 
needs, to help himself to any further acquisitions he might 
desire. 

The boys then made fishing voyages to the Banks, and 
those who were so disposed took their books with them. If 
a boy did not wish to be bored with study, there was nobody 
to force him ; but if a bright one saw visions of future suc- 
cess in life lying through the avenues of knowledge, he found 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


133 


many a leisure hour to pore over his books, and work out 
the problems of navigation directly over the element they 
were meant to control. 

Four years having glided by since the commencement of 
our story, we find in the brown house of Zephaniah Pennel, 
a tall, well-knit, handsome boy of ten years, who knows no 
fear of wind or sea — ; who can set you over from Orr’s 
Island to Harpswell, either in sail or row-boat, he thinks, as 
well as any man living — who knows every rope of the 
schooner “ Brilliant,” and fancies he could command it as 
well as “ father ” himself — and is supporting himself this 
spring, during the tamer drudgeries of driving plough, and 
dropping potatoes, with the glorious vision of being taken 
this year on the annual trip to “ the Banks,” which comes 
on after planting. He reads fluently, — witness the “ Robin- 
son Crusoe,” which never departs from under his pillow, and 
Goldsmith’s “ History of Greece and Rome,” which good 
Mr. Sewell has lent him, — and he often brings shrewd criti- 
cisms on the character and course of Romulus or Alexander 
into the common current of every-day life, in a way that 
brings a smile over the grave face of Zephaniah, and makes 
Mrs. Pennel think the boy certainly ought to be sent to 
college. 

As for Mara, she is now a child of seven, still adorned 
with long golden curls — still looking dreamily out of soft 
hazel eyes into some unknown future not her own. She has 
no dreams for herself — they are all for Moses. 

For his sake she has learned all the womanly little ac- 
complishments which Mrs. Kittridge has dragooned into 
Sally. She knits his mittens and his stockings, and hems 
his pocket-handkerchiefs, and aspires to make his shirts all 
herself. Whatever book Moses reads, forthwith she aspires 


134 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


to read too, and though three years younger, reads with a 
far more precocious insight. 

Her little form is slight and frail, and her cheek has a 
clear transparent brilliancy quite different from the rounded 
one of the boy ; she looks not exactly in ill health, but has 
that sort of transparent appearance which one fancies might 
be an attribute of fairies and sylphs. All her outward senses 
are finer and more acute than his, and finer and more deli- 
cate all the attributes of her mind. Those who contend 
against giving woman the same education as man, do it on 
the ground that it would make the woman unfeminine — as 
if Nature had done her work so slightly that it could be so 
easily ravelled and knit over. In fact, there is a masculine 
and a feminine element in all knowledge, and a man and a 
woman put to the same study extract only what their nature 
fits them to see — so that knowledge can be fully orbed only 
when the two unite in the search and share the spoils. 

When Moses was full of Romulus and Numa, Mara pon- 
dered the story of the nymph Egeria — sweet parable, in 
which lies all we have been saying. 

Her trust in him was boundless. He was a constant hero 
in her eyes, and in her he found a steadfast believer as to 
all possible feats and exploits to which he felt himself com- 
petent, for the boy often had privately assured her that he 
could command the Brilliant as well as father himself. 

Spring had already come, loosing the chains of ice in all 
the bays and coves round Harpswell, Orr’s Island, Maquoit, 
and Middle Bay. The magnificent spruces stood forth in 
their gala-dresses, tipped on every point with vivid emerald ; 
the silver firs exuded from their tender shoots the fragrance 
of ripe pine-apple ; the white pines shot forth long weird 
fingers at the end of their fringy boughs ; and even every 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


135 


little mimic evergreen in the shadows at their feet was made 
beautiful by the addition of a vivid border of green on the 
sombre coloring of its last year’s leaves. Arbutus, fragrant 
with its clean, wholesome odors, gave forth its thousand 
dewy pink blossoms, and the trailing Linnea borealis hung 
its pendent twin bells round every mossy stump and old 
rock damp with green forest mould. The green and ver- 
milion matting of the partridge-berry was impearled with 
white velvet blossoms, the checkerberry hung forth a trans- 
lucent bell under its varnished green leaf, and a thousand 
more fairy bells, white or red, hung on blueberry and 
huckleberry bushes. The little Pearl of Orr’s Island had 
wandered many an hour gathering bouquets of all these, to 
fill the brown house with sweetness when her grandfather 
and Moses should come in from work. 

The love of flowers seemed to be one of her earliest char- 
acteristics, and the young spring flowers of New England, in 
their airy delicacy and fragility, were much like herself — 
and so strong seemed the affinity between them, that not 
only Mrs. Pennel’s best India china vases on the keeping- 
room mantel were filled, but here stood a tumbler of scarlet 
rock columbine, and there a bowl of blue and white violets, 
and in another place a saucer of shell-tinted crow-foot, blue 
liverwort, and white anemone, so that Zephaniah Pennel 
was wont to say there was n’t a drink of water to be got, for 
Mara’s flowers ; but he always said it with a smile that made 
his weather-beaten, hard features look like a rock lit up by 
a sunbeam. Little Mara was the pearl of the old seaman’s 
life, every finer particle of his nature came out in her con- 
centrated and polished, and he often wondered at a creature 
so ethereal belonging to him — as if down on some shaggy 
sea-green rock an old pearl oyster should muse and marvel 


136 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


on the strange silvery mystery of beauty that was growing 
in the silence of his heart. 

But May has passed ; the arbutus and the Linnea are 
gone from the woods, and the pine tips have grown into 
young shoots, which wilt at noon under a direct reflection 
from sun and sea, and the blue sky has that metallic clear- 
ness and brilliancy which distinguishes those regions, and 
the planting is at last over, and this very morning Moses 
is to set off in the Brilliant for his first voyage to the 
Banks. 

Glorious knight he ! the world all before him, and the 
blood of ten years racing and throbbing in his veins as he 
talks knowingly of hooks, and sinkers, and bait, and lines, 
and wears proudly the red flannel shirt which Mara had 
just finished for him. 

“ How I do wish I were going with you ! ” she says. “ I 
could do something, could n’t I — take care of your hooks, 
or something ? ” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Moses, sublimely regarding her while he 
settled the collar of his shirt, “ you ’re a girl — and what 
can girls do at sea ? you never like to catch fish — it always 
makes you cry to see ’em flop.” 

“ Oh, yes, poor fish ! ” said Mara, perplexed between her 
sympathy for the fish and her desire for the glory of her 
hero, which must be founded on their pain; “I can’t help 
feeling sorry when they gasp so.” 

“ Well, and what do you suppose you would do when the 
men are pulling up twenty and -forty pounder ? ” said Moses, 
striding sublimely. “ Why, they flop so, they ’d knock you 
over in a minute.” 

“ Bo they ? Oh, Moses, do be careful. What if they 
should hurt you ? ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


137 


“ Hurt me ! ” said Moses, laughing ; “ that ’s a good one. 
I’d like to see a fish that could hurt me” 

“ Do hear that boy talk ! ” said Mrs. Pennel to her hus- 
band, as they stood within their chamber-door. 

“ Yes, yes,” said Captain Pennel, smiling ; “ he ’s full of 
the matter. I believe he ’d take the command of the 
schooner this morning if I ’d let him.” 

The Brilliant lay all this while courtesying on the waves, 
which kissed and whispered to the little coquettish craft. 
A fairer June morning had not risen on the shores that 
week ; the blue mirror of the ocean was all dotted over with 
the tiny white sails of fishing-craft bound on the same 
errand, and the breeze that was just crisping the waters 
had the very spirit of energy and adventure in it. 

Everything and everybody was now on board, and she 
began to spread her fair wings, and slowly and gracefully 
to retreat from the shore. 

Little Moses stood on the deck, his black curls blowing in 
the wind, and his large eyes dancing with excitement, — his 
clear olive complexion and glowing cheeks well set off by 
his red shirt. 

Mrs. Pennel stood with Mara on the shore to see them 
go. The fair little golden-haired Ariadne shaded her eyes 
with one arm, and stretched the other aftei* her Theseus, till 
the vessel grew smaller, and finally seemed to melt away 
into the eternal blue. 

Many be the wives and lovers that have watched those 
little fishing-craft as they went gayly out like this, but have 
waited long — too long — and seen them again no more. 
In night and fog they have gone down under the keel of 
some ocean packet or Indiaman, and sunk with brave hearts 
and hands, like a bubble in the mighty waters. Yet Mrs. 


138 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

Pennel did not turn back to her house in apprehension of 
this. Her husband had made so many voyages, and always 
returned safely, that she confidently expected before long to 
see them home again. 

The next Sunday the seat of Zephaniah Pennel was 
vacant in church. According to Custom, a note was put up 
asking prayers for his safe return, and then everybody knew 
that he was gone to the Banks ; and as the roguish, hand- 
some face of Moses was also missing, Miss Roxy whispered 
to Miss Ruey, “ There ! Captain Peryiel ’s took Moses on 
his first voyage. We must contrive to call round on Mis’ 
Pennel afore long. She ’ll be lonesome.” 

Sunday evening Mrs. Pennel was sitting pensively with 
little Mara by the kitchen hearth, where they had been boil- 
ing the tea-kettle for their solitary meal. They heard a 
brisk step without, and soon Captain and Mrs. Kittridge 
made their appearance. 

“ Good-evening, Mis’ Pennel,” said the Captain ; “ I ’s 
a-tellin’ my good woman we must come down and see how 
you ’s a-getting along. It ’s raly a work of necessity and 
mercy proper for the Lord’s day. Rather lonesome now the 
Captain ’s gone, a’n’t ye ? Took little Moses, too, I see. 
Wasn’t at meetin’ to-day, so I says, Mis’ Kittridge, we’ll 
just step down and chirk ’em up a little.” 

“ I did n’t really know how to come,” said Mrs. Kittridge, 
as she allowed Mrs. Pennel to take her bonnet ; “ but Aunt 
Roxy ’s to our house now, and she said she ’d see to Sally. 
So you ’ve let the boy go to the Banks ? He ’s young, a’n’t 
he, for that ? ” 

“ Not a bit of it,” said Captain Kittridge. “ Why, I was 
off to the Banks long afore I was his age, and a capital time 
we had of it, too. Golly! how them fish did bite! We 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 139 

?tood up to our knees in fish before we ’d fished half an 
hour.” 

Mara, who had always a shy affinity for the Captain, now 
drew towards him and climbed on his knee. 

“ Did the wind blow very hard ? ” she said. 

“ What, my little maid ? ” 

“ Does the wind blow at the Banks ? ” 

“ Why, yes, my little girl, that it does, sometimes ; but 
then there a’n’t the least danger. Our craft ride out storms 
like live creatures. I ’ve stood it out in gales that was tight 
enough, I ’m sure. ’Member once I turned in ’tween twelve 
and one, and had n’t more ’n got asleep, afore I came clump 
out of my berth, and found everything upside down. And 
’stead of goin’ up-stairs to get on deck, I had to go right 
down. Fact was, that ’ere vessel jist turned clean over in 
the water, and come right side up like a duck.” 

“Well, now, Cap’n, I wouldn’t be tellin’ such a story as 
that,” said his help-meet. 

“ Why, Polly, what do you know about it ? you never 
was to sea. We did turn clear over, for I ’member I saw a 
bunch of sea-weed big as a peck measure stickin’ top of the 
mast next day. Jist shows how safe them ar little fishing 
craft is, — for all they look like an egg-shell on the mighty 
deep, as Parson Sewell calls it.” 

“ I was very much pleased with Mr. Sewell’s exercise in 
prayer this morning,” said Mrs. Kittridge; “it must have 
been a comfort to you, Mis’ Pennel.” 

“ It was, to be sure,” said Mrs. Pennel. 

“ Puts me in mind of poor Mary Jane Simpson. Her 
husband went out, you know, last June, and ha’ n’t been 
heard of since. Mary Jane don’t really know whether to 
put on mourning or not.” 


140 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

“ Law ! I don’t think Mary Jane need give up yet,” said 
the Captain. “ ’Member one year I was out, we got blowed 
clear up to Baffin’s Bay, and got shut up in the ice, and had 
to go ashore and live jist as we could among them Esqui- 
maux. Did n’t get home for a year. Old folks had clean 
giv’ us up. Don’t need never despair of folks gone to sea, 
for they’s sure to turn up, first or last.” 

“ But I hope,” said Mara, apprehensively, “ that grand- 
papa won’t get blown up to Baffin’s Bay. I ’ve seen that 
on his chart, — it ’s a good ways.” 

“ And then there ’s them ’ere icebergs,” said Mrs. Kit- 
tridge ; “I’m always ’fraid of running into them in the fog.” 

“ Law ! ” said Captain Kittridge, “ I ’ve met ’em bigger 
than all the colleges up to Brunswick, — great white bears 
on ’em, — hungry as Time in the Primer. Once we came 
kersmash on to one of ’em, and if the Flying Betsy had n’t 
been made of whalebone and injer-rubber, she ’d a-been 
stove all to pieces. Them white bears, they was so hungry, 
that they stood there with the water jist runnin’ out of their 
chops in a perfect stream.” 

“ Oh, dear, dear,” said Mara, with wide round eyes, “ what 
will Moses do if they get on the icebergs ? ” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Kittridge, looking solemnly at the child 
through the black bows of her spectacles, “ we can truly 
say : — 

‘Dangers stand thick through all the ground, 

To push us to the tomb ; ’ 

as the hymn-book says.” 

The kind-hearted Captain, feeling the fluttering heart of 
little Mara, and seeing the tears start in her eyes, addressed 
himself forthwith to consolation. 

“ Oh, never you mind, Mara,” he said, “ there won’t noth- 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


141 


ing hurt ’em. Look at me. Why, I’ve been everywhere 
on the face of the earth. I ’ve been on icebergs, and among 
white bears and Indians, and seen storms that would blow 
the very hair off your head, and here I am, dry and tight as 
ever. You ’ll see ’em back before long.” 

The cheerful laugh with which the Captain was wont to 
chorus his sentences, sounded like the crackling of dry pine 
wood on the social hearth. One would hardly hear it with- 
out being lightened in heart ; and little Mara gazed at his 
long, dry, ropy figure, and wrinkled thin face, as a sort of 
monument of hope ; and his uproarious laugh, which Mrs. 
Kittridge sometimes ungraciously compared to “ the crack- 
ling of thorns under a pot,” seemed to her the most delight- 
ful thing in the world. 

“ Mary Jane was a-tellin’ me,” resumed Mrs. Kittridge, 
“ that when her husband had been out a month, she 
dreamed she see him, and three other men, a-floatin’ on 
an iceberg.” 

“ Laws,” said Captain Kittridge, “ that ’s jist what my old 
mother dreamed about me, and ’t was true enough, too, till 
we got off the ice on to the shore up in the Esquimaux 
territory, as I was a-tellin’. So you tell Mary Jane she 
need n’t look out for a second husband yet , for that ar 
dream ’s a sartin sign he ’ll be back.” 

“ Cap’n Kittridge ! ” said his help-meet, drawing herself 
up, and giving him an austere glance over her spectacles ; 
“how often must I tell you that there is subjects which 
should n’t be treated with levity ? ” 

“ Who ’s been a-treatin’ of ’em with levity ? ” said the 
Captain. “ I ’m sure I a’n’t. Mary Jane ’s good-lookin’, 
and there ’s plenty of young fellows as sees it as well as me. 
I declare she looked as pretty as any young gal when she 


142 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


ris up in the singers’ seats to-day. Put me in mind of you, 
Polly, when I first come home from the Injies.” 

“ Oh, come now, Cap’n Kittridge ! we V gettin’ too old 
for that sort o’ talk.” 

“ We a’n’t too old, be we, Mara ? ” said the Captain, trot- 
ting the little girl gayly on his knee ; “ ^nd we a’n’t afraid 
of icebergs and no sich, be we ? I tell you they ’s a fine 
sight of a bright day ; they has millions of steeples, all white 
and glistering, like the New Jerusalem, and the white bears 
have capital times trampin’ round on ’em. Would n’t little 
Mara like a great, nice white bear to ride on, with his white 
fur, so soft and warm, and a saddle made of pearls, and a 
gold bridle ? ” 

“ You hav’ n’t seen any little girls ride so,” said Mara, 
doubtfully. 

“ I should n’t wonder if I had ; but you see, Mis’ Kittridge 
there, she won’t let me tell all I know,” said the Captain, 
sinking his voice to a confidential tone; “you jist wait till 
we get alone.” 

“ But, you are sure” said Mara, confidingly, in return, 
“ that white bears will be kind to Moses ? ” 

“Lord bless you, yes, child, the kindest critturs in the 
world they be, if you only get the right side of ’em,” said 
the Captain. 

“Oh, yes! because,” said Mara, “I know how good a 
wolf was to Romulus and Remus once, and nursed them 
when they were cast out to die. I read that in the Ro- 
man history.” 

“ Jist so, ’ said the Captain, enchanted at this historic con- 
firmation of his apocrypha. 

“ And so,” said Mara, “ if Moses should happen to get on 
an iceberg, a bear might take care of him, you know.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


113 


“ Jist so, jist so,” said the Captain ; “ so don’t you worry 
your little curly head one bit. Some time when you come 
down to see Sally, we ’ll go down to the cove, and I ’ll tell 
you lots of stories about chil’en that have been fetched up 
by white bears, jist like Romulus and what ’s his name 
there ? ” 

“ Come, Mis’ Kittridge,” added the cheery Captain ; “ you 
and I must n’t be keepin’ the folks up till nine o’clock.” 

“ Well now,” said Mrs. Kittridge, in a doleful tone, as she 
began to put on her bonnet, “ Mis’ Pennel, you must keep 
up your spirits — it’s one’s duty to take cheerful views of 
things. I ’m sure many ’s the night, when the Captain ’s 
been gone to sea, I ’ve laid and shook in my bed, hearin’ 
the wind blow, and thinking what if I should be left a lone 
widow.” 

“ There ’d a-been a dozen fellows a-wanting to get you in 
six months, Polly,” interposed the Captain. “ Well, good- 
night, Mis’ Pennel ; there ’ll be a splendid haul of fish at 
the Banks this year, or there ’s no truth in signs. Come, 
my little Mara, got a kiss for the dry old daddy ? That ’s 
my good girl. Well, good-night, and the Lord bless you.” 

And so the cheery Captain took up his line of march 
homeward, leaving little Mara’s head full of dazzling vis- 
ions of the land of romance to which Moses had gone. 

She was yet on that shadowy boundary between the 
dreamland of childhood and the real land of life ; so all 
things looked to her quite possible — and gentle white 
bears, with warm, soft fur and pearl and gold saddles, 
walked through her dreams, and the victorious curls of 
Moses appeared, with his bright eyes and cheeks, over 
glittering pinnacles of frost in the ice-land. 


144 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XIV; 

June and July passed, and the lonely two lived a quiet 
life in the brown house. Everything was so still and fair 
- — no sound but the coming and going tide, and the sway- 
ing wind among the pine-trees, and the tick of the clock, 
and the whirr of the little wheel as Mrs. Pennel sat spin- 
ning in her door in the mild weather. 

Mara read the Roman history through again, and began it 
a third time, and read over and over again the stories and 
prophecies that pleased her in the Bible, and pondered the 
wood-cuts and texts in a very old edition of .ZEsop’s Fables, 
and as she wandered in the woods, picking fragrant bay- 
berries and gathering hemlock, checkerberry, and sassafras 
to put in the beer which her grandmother brewed, she 
mused on the things that she read till her little mind be- 
came a tabernacle of solemn, quaint, dreamy forms — where 
old Judean kings and prophets, and Roman senators and 
warriors, marched in and out in shadowy rounds. She in- 
vented long dramas and conversations in which they per- 
formed imaginary parts, and it would not have appeared to 
the child in the least degree surprising either to have met 
an angel in the woods, or to have formed an intimacy with 
some talking wolf or bear, such as she read of in iEsop’s 
Fables. 

One day, as she was exploring the garret, she found in an 
old barrel of cast-off rubbish a bit of reading which she 
begged of her grandmother for her own. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


145 


It was the play of the “ Tempest,” torn from an old edi- 
tion of Shakspeare, and was in that delightfully fragmentary 
condition which most particularly pleases children, because 
they conceive a mutilated treasure thus found to be more 
especially their own property — something like a rare wild- 
flower or sea-shell. The pleasure which thoughtful and im- 
aginative children sometimes take in reading that which 
they do not and cannot fully comprehend, is one of the 
most common and curious phenomena of childhood. 

And so little Mara would lie for hours stretched out on 
the pebbly beach, with the broad open ocean before her and 
the whispering pines and hemlocks behind her, and pore 
over this poem, from which she collected dim, delightful 
images of a lonely island, an old enchanter, a beautiful girl, 
and a spirit not quite like those in the Bible, but a very 
probable one to her mode of thinking. 

As for old Caliban, she fancied him with a face much like 
that of a huge skate-fish she had once seen drawn ashore in 
one of her grandfather’s nets, — and then there was the beau- 
tiful young Prince Ferdinand, much like what Moses would 
be when he was grown up — and how glad she would be to 
pile up his wood for him, if any old enchanter should set 
him to work! 

One attribute of the child was a peculiar shamefacedness 
and shyness about her inner thoughts, and therefore the 
wonder that this new treasnre excited, the host of sur- 
mises and dreams to which it gave rise, were never men- 
tioned to anybody. That it was all of it as much authentic 
fact as the Roman history, she did not doubt, but whether it 
had happened on Orr’s Island or some of the neighboring 
ones, she had not exactly made up her mind. 

She resolved at her earliest leisure to consult Captain 
7 


146 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Kittridge on the subject, wisely considering that it much 
resembled some of his fishy and aquatic experiences. 

Some of the little songs fixed themselves in her memory, 
and she would hum them as she wandered up and down the 
beach. 

“ Come unto these yellow sands 
And then take hands, 

Courtesied when you have and kissed 
(The wild waves wist), 

Foot it featly here and there, 

And sweet sprites the burden bear.” 

And another which pleased her still more : — 

“Full fathom five thy father lies; 

Of his bones are coral made, 

Those are pearls that were his eyes; 

Nothing of him that can fade 
But doth suffer a sea change 
Into something rich and strange; 

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell — 

Hark, I hear them — ding, dong, bell.” 

These words she pondered very long, gravely revolving 
in her little head whether they described the usual course of 
things in the mysterious under-world that lay beneath that 
blue spangled floor of the sea — whether everybody’s eyes 
changed to pearl, and their bones to coral, if they sunk down 
there — and whether the sea-nymphs spoken of were the 
same as the mermaids that Captain Kittridge had told of. 
Had he not said that the bell rung for church of a Sunday 
morning down under the waters ? 

Mara vividly remembered the scene on the sea-beach, the 
finding of little Moses and his mother, the dream of the pale 
lady that seemed to bring him to her ; and not one of the 
conversations that had transpired before her among differ- 
ent gossips, had been lost on her quiet, listening little ears 


THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND. 


147 


These pale, still children that play without making any 
noise, are deep wells into which drop many things which lie 
long and quietly on the bottom, and come up in after years 
whole and new, when everybody else has forgotten them. 

So she had heard surmises as to the remaining crew of 
that unfortunate ship — where, perhaps, Moses had a father. 
And sometimes she wondered if he were lying fathoms deep 
with sea-nymphs ringing his knell, and whether Moses ever 
thought about him ; and yet she could no more have asked 
him a question about it than if she had been born dumb. 
She decided that she should never show him this poetry — 
it might make him feel unhappy. 

One bright afternoon, when the sea lay all dead asleep, and 
the long, steady respiration of its tides scarcely disturbed 
the glassy tranquillity of its bosom, Mrs. Pennel sat at her 
kitchen-door spinning, when Captain Kittridge appeared. 

“ Good-afternoon, Mis* Pennel ; how ye gettin’ along ? ” 

“ Oh, pretty well, Captain ; won’t you walk in and have 
a glass of beer ? ” 

“ Well, thank you,” said the Captain, raising his hat and 
wiping his forehead, “ I be pretty dry, it ’s a fact.” 

Mrs. Pennel hastened to a cask which was kept standing 
in a corner of the kitchen, and drew from thence a mug of 
her own home-brewed, fragrant with the smell of juniper, 
hemlock, and wintergreen, which she presented to the Cap- 
tain, who sat down in the door-way and discussed it in lei- 
surely sips. 

« Wal’, s’pose it ’s most time to be lookin’ for ’em home, 
a’n’t- it ? ” he said. 

“ I am lookin’ every day,” said Mrs. Pennel, involuntarily 
glancing upward at the sea. 

At the word appeared the vision of little Mara, who rose 


148 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


up like a spirit from a dusky corner, where she had been 
stooping over her reading. 

“ Why, little Mara,” said the Captain, “ you ris up like a 
ghost all of a sudden. I thought you ’s out to play. I come 
down a-purpose arter you. Mis’ Kittridge has gone shoppin’ 
up to Brunswick, and left Sally a 1 stent ’ to do ; and I prom- 
ised her if she ’d clap to and do it quick, I ’d go up and fetch 
you down, and we ’d have a play in the cove.” 

Mara’s eyes brightened, as they always did at this pros- 
pect, and Mrs. Pennel said, “ Well, I ’m glad to have the 
child go ; she seems so kind o’ still and lonesome since 
Moses went away ; really one feels as if that boy took all 
the noise there was with him. I get tired myself sometimes 
hearing the clock tick. Mara, when she ’s alone, takes to 
her book more than ’s good for a child.” 

“ She does, does she ? Well, we ’ll see about that. Come, 
little Mara, get on your sun-bonnet. Sally ’s sewin’ fast as 
ever she can, and we ’r’ goin’ to dig some clams, and make a 
fire, and have a chowder ; that ’ll be nice, won’t it ? Don’t 
you want to come, too, Mis’ Pennel ? ” 

“ Oh, thank you, Captain, but I ’ve got so many things on 
hand to do afore they come home, I don’t really think I can. 
I ’ll trust Mara to you any day.” 

Mara had run into her own little room and secured her 
precious fragment of treasure, which she wrapped up care- 
fully in her handkerchief, resolving to enlighten Sally with 
the story, and to consult the Captain on any nice points of 
criticism. Arrived at the cove, they found Sally already 
there in advance of them, clapping her hands and dancing in 
a manner which made her black elf-locks fly like those of a 
distracted creature. 

“ Now > Sally,” said the Captain, imitating, in a humble 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


149 


way, his wife ’s manner, “ are you sure you ’ve finished your 
work well ? ” 

“ Yes, father, every stitch on ’t.” 

“ And stuck in your needle, and folded it up, and put it in 
the drawer, and put away your thimble, and shet the drawer, 
and all the rest on ’t ? ” said the Captain. 

“ Yes, father,” said Sally, gleefully, “ I Ve done everything 
I could think of.” 

“’Cause you know your ma ’ll be arter ye, if you don’t 
leave everything straight.” 

“ Oh, never you fear, father, I ’ve done it all half an hour 
ago, and I ’ve found the most capital bed of clams just round 
the point here ; and you take care of Mara there, and make 
up a fire while I dig ’em. If she comes, she ’ll be sure to 
wet her shoes, or spoil her frock', or something.” 

“ Wal’, she likes no better fun now,” said the Captain, 
watching Sally, as she disappeared round the rock with a 
bright tin pan. 

He then proceeded to construct an extemporary fireplace 
of loose stones, and to put together chips and shavings for 
the fire, — in which work little Mara eagerly assisted ; but 
the fire was crackling and burning cheerily long before Sally 
appeared with her clams, and so the Captain, with a pile of 
hemlock boughs by his side, sat on a stone feeding the fire 
leisurely from time to time with crackling boughs. Now 
was the time for Mara to make her inquiries ; her heart 
beat, she knew not why, for she was full of those little ti- 
midities and shames that so often embarrass children in their 
attempts to get at the meanings of things in this great world, 
where they are such ignorant spectators. 

“ Captain Kittridge,” she said at last, “ do the mermaids 
toll any bells for people when they are drowned ? ” 


150 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Now the Captain had never been known to indicate the 
least ignorance on any subject in heaven or earth, which 
any one wished his opinion on ; he therefore leisurely poked 
another great crackling bough of green hemlock into the 
fire, and, Yankee-like, answered one question by asking 
another, — “ What put that into your curly pate ? ” he said. 

“ A book I ’ve been reading says they do, — that is sea- 
nymphs do. A’n’t sea-nymphs and mermaids the same 
thing ? ” 

“ Wal’, I guess they be, pretty much,” said the Captain, 
rubbing down his pantaloons ; “yes, they be,” he added, after 
reflection. 

“ And when people are drowned, how long does it take 
for their bones to turn into coral, and their eyes into pearl ? ” 
said little Mara. 

“ Well, that depends upon circumstances,” said the Cap- 
tain, who was n’t going to be posed ; “ but let me jist see 
your book you ’ve been reading these things out of.” 

“ I found it in a barrel up garret, and grandma gave it to 
me,” said Mara, unrolling her handkerchief ; “ it ’s a beautiful 
book, — it tells about an island, and there was an old en- 
chanter lived on it, and he had one daughter, and there was 
a spirit they called Ariel, whom a wicked old witch fastened 
in a split of a pine-tree, till the enchanter got him out. He 
was a beautiful spirit, and rode in the curled clouds and hung 
in flowers, — because he could make himself big or little, 
you see.” 

“ Ah, yes, I see, to be sure,” said the Captain, nodding his 
head. 

“Well, that about sea-nymphs ringing his knell is here,” 
Mara added, beginning to read the passage with wide, di- 
lated eyes and great emphasis. “You see,” she went on. 


THE PEARL OF -ORR'S ISLAND. 


151 


speaking very fast, “ this enchanter had been a prince, and 
a wicked brother had contrived to send him. to sea with his 
poor little daughter, in a ship so leaky that the very rats had 
left it” 

“ Bad business that ! ” said the Captain, attentively. 

“ Well,” said Mara, “ they got cast ashore on this desolate 
island, where they lived together. But once, when a ship 
was going by on the sea that had his wicked brother and his 
son — a real good, handsome young prince — in it, why then 
he made a storm by magic arts.” 

“ Jist so,” said the Captain ; “ that ’s been often done, to 
my sartin knowledge.” 

“ And he made the ship be wrecked and all the people 
thrown ashore, but there was n’t any of ’em drowned, and this 
handsome prince heard Ariel singing this song about his 
father, and it made him think he was dead.” 

“ Well, what became of ’em ? ” interposed Sally, who had 
come up with her pan of clams in time to hear this story, to 
which she had listened with breathless interest. 

“Oh, the beautiful young prince married the beautiful 
young lady,” said Mara. 

“ Wal f ,” said the Captain, who by this time had found his 
soundings ; “ that you ’ve been a-tellin’ is what they call a 
play, and I ’ve seen ’em act it at a theatre, when I was to 
Liverpool once. I know all about it. Shakspeare wrote 
it, and he ’s a great English poet.” 

“ But did it ever happen ? ” said Mara, trembling between 
hope and fear. “ Is it like the Bible and Roman history ? ” 

“ Why, no,” said Captain Kittridge, “ not exactly ; but 
things jist like it, you know. Mermaids and sich is com- 
mon in foreign parts, and they has funerals for drowned 
sailors. ’Member once when we was sailing near the Ber- 


152 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


mudas by a reef where the Lively Fanny went down, and I 
heard a kind o’ ding-dongin’, — and the waters there is clear 
as the sky, — and I looked down and see the coral all a- 
growin’, and the sea-plants a-wavin’ as handsome as a pic- 
tur’, and the mermaids they was a-singin’. It was beautiful ; 
they sung kind o’ mournful ; and Jack Hubbard, he would 
have it they was a-singin’ for the poor fellows that was 
a-lyin’ there round under the sea-weed.” 

“ But,” said Mara, “ did you ever see an enchanter that 
could make storms ? ” 

“ Wal’, there be witches and conjurers that make storms. 
’Member once when we was crossin’ the line, about twelve 
o’clock at night, there was an old man with a long white 
beard that shone like silver, came and stood at the mast-head, 
and he had a pitchfork in one hand, and a lantern in the 
other, and there was great balls of fire as big as my fist 
came out all round in the rigging. And I ’ll tell you if we 
did n’t get a blow that ar night ! I thought to my soul we 
should all go to the bottom.” 

“ Why,” said Mara, her eyes staring with excitement, 
“that was just like this shipwreck ; and ’t was Ariel made 
those balls of fire'; he says so ; he said he ‘ flamed amaze- 
ment’ all over the ship.” 

“I’ve heard Miss Roxy tell about witches that made 
storms,” said Sally. 

The Captain leisurely proceeded to open the clams, sepa- 
rating from the shells the contents, which he threw into a 
pan, meanwhile placing a black pot over the fire in which 
he had previously arranged certain slices of salt pork, which 
soon began frizzling in the heat. 

“ Now, Sally, you peel them potatoes, and mind you slice 
em thin, he said, and Sally soon was busy with her work. 


THE PEARL OF'ORR’S ISLAND. 


153 


“Yes,” said the Captain, going on with his part of the 
arrangement, “ there was old Polly Twichell, that lived in 
that ar old tumble-down house on Mure P’int ; people used 
to say she brewed storms, and went to sea in a sieve.” 

“Went in a sieve!” said both children; “why a sieve 
would n’t swim ! ” 

“ No more it would n’t, in any Christian way,” said the 
Captain ; “ but that was to show what a great witch she 
was.” 

“ But this was a good enchanter,” said Mara, “ and he did 
it all by a book and a rod.” 

“ Yes, yes,” said the Captain ; “ that ar ’s the gen’l way 
magicians do, ever since Moses’ time in Egypt. ’Member 
once I was to Alexandria, in Egypt, and I saw a magician 
there that could jist see everything you ever did in your life 
in a drop of ink that he held in his hand.” 

“ He could, father ! ” 

“ To be sure he could ! told me all about the old folks at 
home ; and described our house as natural as if he ’d a-been 
there. He used to carry snakes round with him, — a kind 
so p’ison that it was certain death to have ’em bite you ; but 
he played with ’em as if they was kittens.” 

“Well,” said Mara, “my enchanter was a king; and 
when he got through all he wanted, and got his daughter 
married to the beautiful young prince, he said he would 
break his staff’, and deeper than plummet sounded he would 
bury his book.” 

“ It was pretty much the best thing he could do,” said the 
Captain, “ because the Bible is agin such things.” 

“ Is it ? ” said Mara ; “ why, he was a real good man.” 

“ Oh, well, you know, we all on us does what a’n’t quite 
nght sometimes, when we gets pushed up,” said the Captain, 


154 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

who now began arranging the clams and sliced potatoes in 
alternate layers with sea-biscuit, strewing in salt and pepper 
as he went on ; and, in a few moments, a smell, fragrant to 
hungry senses, began to steam upward, and Sally began 
washing and preparing some mammoth clam-shells, to serve 
as ladles and plates for the future chowder. 

Mara, who sat with her morsel of a book in her lap, 
seemed deeply pondering the past conversation. At last she 
said, “ What did you mean by saying you ’d seen ’em act 
that at a theatre ? ” 

“-Why, they make it all seem real ; and they have a ship- 
wreck, and you see it all jist right afore your eyes.” 

“And the Enchanter, and Ariel, and Caliban, and all?” 
said Mara. 

“ Yes, all on ’t, — plain as printing.” 

“ Why, that is by magic, a’n’t it ?” said Mara. 

“ No ; they hes ways to jist make it up ; but,” — added 
the Captain, “ Sally, you need n’t say nothin’ to your ma 
’bout the theatre, ’cause she would n’t think I ’s fit to go to 
meetin’ for six months arter, if she heard on ’t.” 

“ Why, a’n’t theatres good ? ” said Sally. 

“ Wal, there ’s a middlin’ sight o’ bad things in ’em,” said 
the Captain, “ that I must say ; but as long as folks is folks, 
why, they will be folksy ; — but there ’s never any makin’ 
women folk understand about them ar things.” 

“ I am sorry they are bad,” said Mara ; “ I want to see 
them.” 

“Wal’, wal’,” said the Captain, “on the hull I’ve seen 
raal things a good deal more wonderful than all their shows, 
and they ha n t no make-b’lieve to ’em — but theatres is 
takin arter all. But, Sally, mind you don’t say nothin’ to 
Mis’ Kittridge.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


155 


A few moments more and all discussion was lost in prep- 
arations for the meal, and each one receiving a portion of 
the savory stew in a large shell, made a spoon of a small 
cockle, and with some slices of bread and butter, the even- 
ing meal went off merrily. The sun was sloping toward the 
ocean ; the wide blue floor was bedropped here and there 
with rosy shadows of sailing clouds. Suddenly the Cap- 
tain sprang up, calling out, — 

“ Sure as I ’m alive, there they be ! ” 

“ Who ? ” exclaimed the children. 

“ Why, Captain Pennel and Moses ; don’t you see ? ” 

And, in fact, on the outer circle of the horizon came drift- 
ing a line of small white-breasted vessels, looking like so 
many doves. 

“ Them ’s ’em,” said the Captain, while Mara danced for 

joy* 

“ How soon will they be here ? ” 

“ Afore long,” said the Captain ; “ so, Mara, I guess you ’ll 
want to be getting hum.” 


156 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XY. 

Mrs. Pennel, too, had seen the white, dove-like cloud 
on the horizon, and had hurried to make biscuits, and con- 
duct other culinary preparations which should welcome the 
wanderers home. 

The sun was just dipping into the great blue sea — a 
round ball of fire — and sending long, slanting tracks of 
light across the top of each wave, when a boat was moored 
at the beach, and the minister sprang out, — not in his suit 
of ceremony, but attired in fisherman’s garb. 

“ Good-afternoon, Mrs. Pennel,” he said. “ I was out 
fishing, and I thought I saw your husband’s schooner in the 
distance. I thought I ’d come and tell you.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Sewell. I thought I saw it, but I was 
not certain. Do come in ; the Captain would be delighted 
to see you here.” 

“ We miss your husband in our meetings,” said Mr. Sew- 
ell ; “ it will be good news for us all when he comes home ; 
he is one of those I depend on to help me preach.” 

“ I ’m sure you don’t preach to anybody who enjoys it 
more,” said Mrs. Pennel. “ He often tells me that the 
greatest trouble about his voyages to the Banks is that he 
loses so many sanctuary privileges ; though he always keeps 
Sunday on his ship, and reads and sings his psalms ; but, he 
says, after all, there ’s nothing like going to Mount Zion.” 

u And little Moses has gone on his first voyage ? ” said 
the minister. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


157 


“ Yes, indeed ; the child has been teasing to go for more 
than a year. Finally the Cap’n told him if he ’d be faithful 
in the ploughing and planting he should go. You see, he ’s 
rather unsteady, and apt to be off after other things, — very 
different from Mara. Whatever you give her to do she 
always keeps at it till it ’s done.” 

“ And pray, where is the little lady ? ” said the minister ; 
“ is she gone ? ” 

“ Well, Cap’n Kittridge came in this afternoon to take her 
down to see Sally. The Cap’n ’s always so fond of Mara, 
and she has always taken to him ever since she was a baby.” 

“ The Captain is a curious creature,” said the minister, 
smiling. 

Mrs. Fennel smiled also ; a*hd it is to be remarked that 
nobody ever mentioned the poor Captain’s name without the 
same curious smile. 

“ The Cap’n is a good-hearted, obliging creature,” said 
Mrs. Fennel, “ and a master-hand for telling stories to the 
children.” 

“ Yes, a perfect ‘ Arabian Nights’ Entertainment,’ ” said 
Mr. Sewell. 

“Well, I really believe the Cap’n believes his own 
stories,” said Mrs. Fennel ; “ he always seems to, and cer- 
tainly a more obliging man and a kinder neighbor could n’t 
be. He has been in and out almost every day since I ’ve 
been alone, to see if I wanted anything. He would insist 
on chopping wood and splitting kindlings for me, though I 
told him the Cap’n and Moses had left a plenty to last till 
they came home.” 

At this moment the subject of their conversation appeared 
striding along the beach, with a large, red lobster in one 
hand, while with the other he held little Mara upon his 


158 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

shoulder, she the while clapping her hands and singing mer- 
rily, as she saw the Brilliant out on the open blue sea, its 
white sails looking of a rosy purple in the evening light, 
careering gayly homeward. 

“ There is Captain Kittridge this very minute,” said Mrs. 
Pennel, setting down a teacup she had been wiping, and 
going to* the door. 

“ Good-evening, Mis’ Pennel,” said the Captain. “ I 
s’pose you see your folks are cornin’. I brought down one 
of these ’ere ready b’iled, ’cause I thought it might make 
out your supper.” 

“ Thank you, Captain ; you must stay and take some with 
us.” 

“ Wal’, me and the children have pooty much done our 
supper,” said the Captain. “We made a real fust-rate 
chowder down there to the cove ; but I ’ll jist stay and see 
what the Cap’n’s luck is. Massy ! ” he added, as he looked 
in at the door, “ if you ha’n’t got the minister there ! Wal’, 
now, I come jist as I be,” he added, with a glance down at 
his clothes. 

“ Never mind, Captain,” said Mr. Sewell ; “I’m in my 
fishing-clothes, so we’re even.” 

As to little Mara, she had run down to the beach, and 
stood so near the sea, that every dash of the tide-wave forced 
her little feet to tread an inch backward, stretching out her 
hands eagerly toward the schooner, which was standing 
straight toward the small wharf, not far from their door. 
Already she could see on deck figures moving about, and 
her sharp little eyes made out a small personage in a red 
shirt that was among the most active. Soon all the figures 
grew distinct, and she could see her grandfather’s gray head, 
and alert, active form, and could see, by the signs he made, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


159 


that he had perceived the little blowy figure that stood, with 
hair streaming in the wind, like some flower bent seaward. 

And now they are come nearer, and Moses shouts and 
dances on the deck, and the Captain and Mrs. Pennel come 
running from the house down to the shore, and a few min- 
utes more, and all are landed safe and sound, and little Mara 
is carried up to the house in her grandfather’s arms, while 
Captain Kittridge stops to have a few moments’ gossip with 
Ben Halliday and Tom Scranton before they go to their own 
resting-places. 

Meanwhile Moses loses not a moment in boasting of his 
heroic exploits to Mara. 

“ Oh, Mara ! you ’ve no idea what times we ’ve had ! I 
can fish equal to any of ’em, and I can take in sail and tend 
the helm like anything, and I know all the names of every- 
thing ; and you ought to have seen us catch fish ! Why, 
they bit just as fast as we could throw ; and it was just 
throw and bite, — throw and bite, — throw and bite ; and 
my hands got blistered pulling in, but I did n’t mind it, — I 
was determined no one should beat me.” 

“ Oh ! did you blister your hands ? ” said Mara, pitifully. 

“ Oh, to be sure ! Now, you girls think that ’s a dreadful 
thing, but we men don’t mind it. My hands are getting so 
hard, you ’ve no idea. And, Mara, we caught a great 
shark.” 

« A shark ! — oh, how dreadful ! Is n’t he dangerous ? ” 

“Dangerous! I guess not. We served him out, I tell 
you. He ’ll never eat any more people, I tell you, the old 
wretch ! ” 

“But, poor shark, it isn’t his fault that he eats people. 
He was made so,” said Mara, unconsciously touching a deep 
theological mystery. 


160 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

“Well, I don’t know but he was,” said Moses; "but 
Bharks that we catch never eat any more, I’ll bet you” 

« Oh, Moses, did you see any icebergs ? ” 

“ Icebergs ! yes ; we passed right by one, — a real grand 
one.” 

“ Were there any bears on it ? ” 

“ Beafs ! No ; we did n’t see any.” 

“ Captain Kittridge says there are white bears live on 
’em.” 

“Oh, Captain Kittridge,” said Moses, with a toss of su- 
perb contempt; “if you’re going to believe all he says, 
you ’ve got your hands full.” 

“ Why, Moses, you don’t think he tells lies ? ” said Mara, 
the tears actually starting in her eyes. “ I think he is real 
good, and tells nothing but the truth.” 

“Well, well, you are young yet,” said Moses, turning 
away with an air of easy grandeur, “ and only a girl be- 
sides,” he added. 

Mara was nettled at this speech. First, it pained her to 
have her child’s faith shaken in anything, and particularly in 
her good old friend, the Captain ; and next, she felt, with 
more force than ever she did before, the continual disparag- 
ing tone in which Moses spoke of her girlhood. 

“ I ’m sure,” she said to herself, “ he ought n’t to feel so 
about girls and women. There was Deborah was a prophet- 
ess, and judged Israel; and there was Egeria, — she taught 
Numa Pompilius all his wisdom.” 

But it was not the little maiden’s way to speak when any- 
thing thwarted or hurt her, but rather to fold all her feelings 
and thoughts inward, as some insects, with fine gauzy wings, 
draw them under a coat of horny concealment. 

Somehow, there was a shivering sense of disappointment 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


161 


in all this meeting with Moses. She had dwelt upon it, and 
fancied so much, and had so many things to say to him ; and 
he had come home so self-absorbed and glorious, and seemed 
to have had so little need of or thought for her, that she felt 
a cold, sad sinking at her heart ; and walking away very 
still and white, sat down demurely by her grandfather's knee. 

“Well, so my little girl is glad grandfather’s come,” he 
said, lifting her fondly in. his arms, and putting her golden 
head under his coat, as he had been wont to do from in- 
fancy ; “ grandpa thought a great deal about his little Mara.” 

The small heart swelled against his. Kind, faithful old 
grandpa ! how much more he thought about her than Mo- 
ses ; and yet she had thought so much of Moses. 

And there he sat, this same ungrateful Moses, bright-eyed 
and rosy-cheeked, full of talk and gayety, full of energy and 
vigor, as ignorant as possible of the wound he had given to 
the little loving heart that was silently brooding under her 
grandfather’s butternut-colored sea-coat. Not only was he 
ignorant, but he had not even those conditions within him- 
self which made knowledge possible. 

All that there was developed of him, at present, was a 
fund of energy, self-esteem, hope, courage, and daring, the 
love of action, life, and adventure ; his *life was in the out- 
ward and present, not in the inward and reflective ; he was 
a true ten-year old boy, in its healthiest and most animal 
perfection. What she was, the small pearl with the golden 
hair, with her frail and high-strung organization, her sen- 
sitive nerves, her half-spiritual fibres, her ponderings, and 
marvels, and dreams, her power of love, and yearning for 
self-devotion, our readers may, perhaps, have seen. But if 
ever two children, or two grown people, thus organized, are 
thrown into intimate relations, it follows, from the very laws 


1G2 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


of their being, that one must hurt the other, simply by being 
itself ; one must always hunger for what the other has not 
to give. 

It was a merry meal, however, when they all sat down to 
the tea-table once more, and Mara by her grandfather’s side, 
who often stopped what he was saying to stroke her head 
fondly. Moses bore a more prominent part in the conversa- 
tion than he had been wont to do before this voyage, and all 
seemed to listen to him with a kind of indulgence elders 
often accord to a handsome, manly boy, in the first flush of 
some successful enterprise. 

That ignorant confidence in one’s self and one’s future, 
which comes in life’s first dawn, has a sort of mournful 
charm in experienced eyes, who know how much it all 
amounts to. 

Gradually, little Mara quieted herself with listening to 
and admiring him. 

It is not comfortable to have any heart-quarrel with one’s 
cherished idol, and everything of the feminine nature, there- 
fore, can speedily find fifty good reasons for seeing one’s self 
in the wrong and one’s graven image in the right ; and little 
Mara soon had said to herself, without words, that, of course, 
Moses could n’t be expected to think as much of her as she 
of him. He was handsomer, cleverer, and had a thousand 
other things to do and to think of — he was a boy, in short, 
and going to be a glorious man and sail all over the world, 
while she could only hem handkerchiefs and knit stockings, 
and sit at home and wait for him to come back. This was 
about the resume of life as it appeared to the little one, who 
went on from the moment worshipping her image with more 
undivided idolatry than ever, hoping that by and by he 
would think more of her. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


163 


Mr. Sewell appeared to study Moses carefully and thought- 
fully, and encouraged the wild, gleeful frankness which he 
had brought home from his first voyage, as a knowing jockey 
tries the paces of a high-mettled colt. 

“ Did you get any time to read ? ” he interposed once, 
when the boy stopped in his account of their adventures. 

“ No, sir,” said Moses ; “ at least,” he added, blushing 
very deeply, “ I did n’t feel like reading. I had so much to 
do, and there was so much to see.” 

“ It ’s all new to him now,” said Captain Pennel ; “ but 
when he comes to being, as I ’ve been, day after day, with 
nothing but sea and sky, he ’ll be glad of a book, just to 
break the sameness.” 

“ Laws, yes,” said Captain Kittridge ; “ sailor’s life a’n’t 
all apple-pie, as it seems when a boy first goes on a summer 
trip with his daddy — not by no manner o’ means.” 

“ But,” said Mara, blushing and looking very eagerly at 
Mr. Sewell, “ Moses has read a great deal. He read the 
Roman and th<f Grecian history through before he went 
away, and knows all about them.” 

“ Indeed ! ” said Mr. Sewell, turning with an amused look 
towards the tiny little champion ; “ do you read them, too, 
my little maid ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Mara, her eyes kindling ; “ I have 
read them a great deal since Moses went away — them 
and the Bible.” 

Mara did not dare to name her new-found treasure — 
there was something so mysterious about that, that she could 
not venture to produce it, except on the score of extreme 
intimacy. 

“ Come, sit by me, little Mara,” said the minister, putting 
out his hand ; “ you and I must be friends, I see.” 


164 


THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND. 


Mr. Sewell had a certain something of mesmeric power 
in his eyes w 7 hich children seldom resisted ; and with a 
shrinking movement, as if both attracted and repelled, the 
little girl got upon his knee. 

“ So you like the Bible and Roman history ? ” he said to 
her, making a little aside for her, while a brisk conversation 
was going on between Captain Kittridge and Captain Pennel 
on the fishing bounty for the year. 

“ Yes, sir,” said Mara, blushing in a very guilty way. 

“ And which do you like the best ? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir ; I sometimes think it is the one, and 
sometimes the other.” 

“ Well, what pleases you in the Roman history ? ” 

“ Oh, I like that about Quintus Curdus.” 

“ Quintus Curtius ? ” said Mr. Sewell, pretending not to 
remember. 

“ Oh, don’t you remember him ? w r hy, there was a great 
gulf opened in the Forum, and the Augurs said that the 
country would not be saved unless some one would offer 
himself up for it, and so he jumped right in, all on horse- 
back. I think that was grand. I should like to have done 
that,” said little Mara, her eyes blazing out with a kind of 
starry light which they had when she was excited. 

“ And how would you have liked it, if you had been a 
Roman girl, and Moses were Quintus Curtius ? would you 
like to have him give himself up for the good of the 
country ? ” 

“ Oh, no, no ! ” said Mara, instinctively shuddering. 

“ Don’t you think it would be very grand of him ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir.” 

“ And should n’t we wish our friends to do what is brave 
and grand ? ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


165 


44 Yes, sir ; but then,” she added, 44 it would be so dread- 
ful never to see him any more,” and a large tear rolled from 
the great soft eyes and fell on the minister’s hand. 

44 Come, come,” thought Mr. Sewell, 44 this sort of experi- 
menting is too bad — too much nerve here, too much soli- 
tude, too much pine-whispering and sea-dashing are going to 
the making up of this little piece of workmanship.” 

“ Tell me,” he said, motioning Moses to sit by him, 44 how 
you like the Roman history.” 

“ I like it first-rate,” said Moses. 44 The Romans were 
such smashers, and beat everybody — nobody could stand 
against them ; and I like Alexander, too — I think he was 
splendid.” 

“ True boy,” said Mr. Sewell to himself, “ unreflecting 
brother of the wind and the sea, and all that is vigorous and 
active — no precocious development of the moral here.” 

“ Now you have come,” said Mr. Sewell, “ I will lend 
you another book.” 

« Thank you, sir ; I love to read them when I ’m at home 
— it ’s so still here. I should be dull if I did n’t.” 

Mara’s eyes looked eagerly attentive. Mr. Sewell noticed 
their hungry look when a book was spoken of. 

“ And you must read it, too, my little girl,” he said. 

“ Thank you, sir,” said Mara; “I always want to read 
everything Moses does.” 

“ What book is it ? ” said Moses. 

“ It is called Plutarch’s 4 Lives,’ ” said the minister ; “ it 
lias more particular accounts of the men you read about in 
history.” 

44 Are there any lives of women ? ” said Mara. 

44 No, my dear,” said Mr. Sewell; 44 in the old times, 
women did not get their lives written, though I don’t doubt 


166 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


many of them were much better worth writing than the 
men’s.” 

“ I should like to be a great general,” said Moses, with a 
toss of his head. 

“ The way to be great lies through books, now, and not 
through battles,” said the minister ; “ there is more done 
with pens than swords ; so, if you want to do anything, you 
must read and study.” 

“ Do you think of giving this boy a liberal education ? ” 
said Mr. Sewell some time later in the evening, after Moses 
and Mara were gone to bed. 

“ Depends on the boy,” said Zephaniah. “ I ’ve been up 
to Brunswick, and seen the fellows there in the college. 
With a good many of ’em, going to college seems to be just 
nothing but a sort of ceremony ; they go because they ’re 
sent, and don’t learn anything more ’n they can help. That ’s 
what I call waste of time and money.” 

“ But don’t you think Moses shows some taste for reading 
and study ? ” 

“Pretty well, pretty well!” said Zephaniah; “jist keep 
him a little hungry ; not let him get all he wants, you see, 
and he ’ll bite the sharper. If I want to catch cod I don’t 
begin with dingin’ over a barrel o’ bait. So with the boys, 
jist* bait ’em with a book here and a book there, and kind o’ 
let ’em feel their own way, and then, if nothin’ will do but 
a fellow must go to college, give in to him — that ’d be my 
way.” 

“ And a very good one, too ! ” said Mr. Sewell. u I ’ll see 
if I can’t bait my hook, so as to make Moses take after Latin 
this winter. I shall have plenty of time to teach him.” 

“ Now, there ’s Mara ! ” said the Captain, his face becom- 
ing phosphorescent with a sort of mild radiance of pleasure, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


167 


as it usually was when he spoke of her ; “ she ’s real sharp 
set after books ; she ’s ready to fly out of her little skin at 
the sight of one.” 

“ That child thinks too much, and feels too much, and 
knows too much for her years ! ” said Mr. Sewell. “ If she 
were a boy, and you would take her away cod-fishing, as 
you have Moses, the sea-winds would blow away some of 
the thinking, and her little body would grow stout, and her 
mind less delicate and sensitive. But she’s a woman,” he 
said, with a sigh, “ and they are all alike. We can’t do 
much for them, but let them come up as they will and make 
the best of it.” 


168 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XYI. 

“ Emily,” said Mr. Sewell, “ did you ever take much 
notice of that little Mara Lincoln?” 

“ No, brother ; why ? ” 

“ Because I think her a very uncommon child.” 

“ She is a pretty little creature,” said Miss Emily ; “ but 
that is all I know; modest — blushing to her eyes when a 
stranger speaks to her.” 

“ She has wonderful eyes,” said Mr. Sewell ; “ when she 
gets excited, they grow so large and so bright, it seems al- 
most unnatural.” 

“ Dear me ! has she ? ” said Miss Emily, in the tone of 
one who had been called upon to do something about it. 
“Well?” she added, inquiringly. 

“ That little thing is only seven years old,” said Mr. Sew- 
ell ; “ and she is thinking and feeling herself all into mere 
spirit — brain and nerves all active, and her little body so 
frail. She reads incessantly, and thinks over and over what 
she reads.” 

“Well?” said Miss Emily, winding very swiftly on a 
skein of black silk, and giving a little twitch, every now and 
then, to a knot to make it subservient. 

It was commonly the way, when Mr. Sewell began to talk 
with Miss Emily, that she constantly answered him with the 
manner of one who expects some immediate, practical prop- 
osition to flow from every train of thought. Now Mr. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


169 


Sewell was one of the reflecting kind of men, whose thoughts 
have a thousand meandering paths, that lead nowhere in 
particular. His sister’s brisk little “ Well’s ? ” and “ Ah’s ! ” 
and “ Indeed’s ! ” were sometimes the least bit in the world 
annoying. 

“ What is to be done ? ” said Miss Emily ; “ shall we 
speak to Mrs. Pennel ? ” 

“ Mrs. Pennel would know nothing about her.” 

“ How strangely you talk ! — who should, if she does n’t ? ” 

“ I mean, she would n’t understand the dangers of her 
case.” 

“ Dangers ! Do you think she has any disease ? She 
seems to be a healthy child enough, I ’m sure. She has a 
lovely color in her cheeks.” 

Mr. Sewell seemed suddenly to become immersed in a 
book he was reading. 

“ There now,” said Miss Emily, with a little tone of pique, 
“ that ’s the way you always do. You begin to talk with me, 
and just as I get interested in the conversation, you take up 
a book. It ’s too bad.” 

“ Emily,” said Mr. Sewell, laying down his book, “ I 
think I shall begin to give Moses Pennel Latin lessons this 
winter.” 

“ Why, what do you undertake that for ? ” said Miss 
Emily. “ You have enough to do without that, I ’m 
sure.” 

“He is an uncommonly bright boy, and he interests 
me.” 

“ Now, brother, you need n’t tell me ; there is some mys- 
tery about the interest you take in that child, you know there 
is.” 

“ I am fond of children,” said Mr. Sewell, dryly. 

8 


170 THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 

« Well, but you don’t take as much interest in other boys. 
I never heard of your teaching any of them Latin before.” 

« Well, Emily, he is an uncommonly interesting child, and 
the providential circumstances under which he came into 
our neighborhood ” 

“ Providential fiddlesticks ! ” said Miss Emily, with 
heightened color. “ I believe you knew that boy’s mother.” 

This sudden thrust brought a vivid color into Mr. Sew- 
ell’s cheeks. To be interrupted so unceremoniously, in the 
midst of so very proper and ministerial a remark, was 
rather provoking, and he answered, with some asperity, — 

“And suppose I had, Emily, and supposing there were 
any painful subject connected with this past event, you 
might have sufficient forbearance not to try to make me 
speak on what I do not wish to talk of.” 

Mr. Sewell was one of your gentle, dignified men, from 
whom Heaven deliver an inquisitive female friend ! If 
such people would only get angry, and blow some unbecom- 
ing blast, one might make something of them ; but speaking, 
as they always do, from the serene heights of immaculate 
propriety, one gets in the wrong before one knows it, and 
lias nothing for it but to beg pardon. 

Miss Emily had, however, a feminine resource : she began 
to cry — wisely confining herself to the simple eloquence of 
tears and sobs. Mr. Sewell sat as awkwardly as if he had 
trodden on a kitten’s toe, or brushed down a china cup, feel- 
ing as if he were a great, horrid, clumsy boor, and his poor 
little sister a martyr. 

“ Come, Emily,” he said, in a softer tone, when the sobs 
subsided a little. 

But Emily did n’t “ come,” but went at it with a fresh 
burst. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


171 


Mr. Sewell had a vision like that which drowning men 
are said to have, in which all Miss Emily’s sisterly devo- 
tions, stocking-darnings, account-keepings, nursings and tend- 
ings, and infinite self-sacrifices, rose up before him : and 
there she was — crying ! 

“ I ’m sorry I spoke harshly, Emily. Come, come ; that ’s 
a good girl.” 

“ I ’m a silly fool,” said Miss Emily, lifting her head, and 
wiping the tears from her merry little eyes, as she went on 
winding her silk. 

“ Perhaps he will tell me now,” she thought, as she 
wound. 

But he did n’t. 

“ What I was going to say, Emily,” said her brother, 
“ was, that I thought it would be a good plan for little 
Mara to come sometimes with Moses; and then, by ob- 
serving her more particularly, you might be of use to 
her ; her little, active mind needs good practical guidance 
like yours.” 

Mr. Sewell spoke in a gentle, flattering tone, and Miss 
Emily was flattered ; but she soon saw that she had gained 
nothing by the whole breeze, except a little kind of dread, 
which made her inwardly resolve never to touch the knocker 
of his fortress again. But she entered into her brother’s 
scheme with the facile alacrity with which she usually sec- 
onded any schemes of his proposing. 

“ I might teach her painting and embroidery,” said Miss 
Emily, glancing, with a satisfied air, at a framed piece of 
her own work which hung over the mantel-piece, revealing 
the state of the fine arts in this country, as exhibited in the 
performances of well-instructed young ladies of that period. 
Miss Emily had performed it under the tuition of a cele- 


172 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


brated teacher of female accomplishments. It represented a 
white marble obelisk, which an inscription, in legible India- 
ink letters, stated to be “ Sacred to the memory of Theophi- 
lus Sewell,” &c. This obelisk stood in the midst of a 
ground made very green by an embroidery of different 
shades of chenille and silk, and was overshadowed by an 
embroidered weeping-willow. Leaning on it, with her face 
concealed in a plentiful flow of white handkerchief, was a 
female figure in deep mourning, designed to represent the 
desolate widow. A young girl, in a very black dress, knelt 
in front of it, and a very lugubrious-looking young man, 
standing bolt upright on the other side, seemed to hold in 
his hand one end of a wreath of roses, which the girl was 
presenting, as an appropriate decoration for the tomb. The 
girl and gentleman were, of course, the young Theophilus 
and Miss Emily, and the appalling grief conveyed by the 
expression of their faces was a triumph of the pictorial 
art. 

Miss Emily had in her bedroom a similar funeral trophy, 
sacred to the memory of her deceased mother, — besides 
which there were, framed and glazed, in the little sitting- 
room, two embroidered shepherdesses standing with rueful 
faces, in charge of certain animals of an uncertain breed 
between sheep and pigs. The poor little soul had mentally 
resolved to make Mara the heiress of all the skill and knowl- 
edge of the arts by which she had been enabled to consum- 
mate these marvels. 

“ She is naturally a lady-like little thing,” she said to her- 
self, “ and if I know anything of accomplishments, she shall 
have them.” 

Just about the time that Miss Emily came to this resolu- 
tion, had she been clairvoyant, she might have seen Mara 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


173 


sitting very quietly, busy in the solitude of her own room 
with a little sprig of partridge-berry before her, whose round 
green leaves and brilliant scarlet berries she had been for 
hours trying to imitate, as appeared from the scattered 
sketches and fragments around her. In fact, before Zeph- 
aniah started on his spring fishing, he had caught her one 
day very busy at work of the same kind, with bits of char- 
coal, and some colors compounded out of wild berries ; and 
so out of his capacious pocket, after his return, he drew a 
little box of water-colors and a lead-pencil and square of 
india-rubber, which he had bought for her in Portland on 
his way home. 

Hour after hour the child works, so still, so fervent, 
so earnest, — going over and over, time after time, her 
simple, ignorant methods to make it “ look like,” and stop- 
ping, at times, to give the true artist’s sigh, as the little 
green. and scarlet fragment lies there hopelessly, unapproach- 
ably perfect. Ignorantly to herself, the hands of the little 
pilgrim are knocking at the very door where Giotto and 
Cimabue knocked in the innocent child-life of Italian art. 

“ Why won't it look round ? ” she said to Moses, who had 
come in behind her. 

“ Why, Mara, did you do these ? ” said Moses, astonished; 
« why, how well they are done ! I should know in a minute 
what they were meant for.” 

Mara flushed up at being praised by Moses, but heaved a 
deep sigh as she looked back. 

“ It ’s so pretty, that sprig,” she said ; “ if I only could 
make it just like ” 

“ Why, nobody expects that” said Moses, “ it ’s like 
enough, if people only know what you mean it for. But 
come, now, get your bonnet, and come with me in the boat. 


174 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Captain Kittridge has just brought down our new one, and 
I ’m going to take you over to Eagle Island, and we ’ll take 
our dinner and stay all day ; mother says so.” 

“Oh, how nice ! ” said the little girl, running cheerfully for 
her sun-bonnet. 

At the house-door they met Mrs. Pennel, with a little 
closely-covered tin pail. 

“ Here ’s your dinner, children ; and, Moses, mind ajjd 
take good care of her.” 

“ Never fear me, mother, I ’ve been to the Banks ; there 
wasn’t a man there could manage a boat better than I 
could.” 

“ Yes, grandmother,” said Mara, “ you ought to see how 
strong his arms are ; I believe he will be like Samson one 
of these days if he keeps on.” 

So away they went. It was a glorious August forenoon, 
and the sombre spruces and shaggy hemlocks that dipped 
and rippled in the waters were penetrated to their deepest 
recesses with the clear brilliancy of the sky, — a true north- 
ern sky, without a cloud, without even a softening haze, de- 
fining every outline, revealing every minute point, cutting 
with sharp decision the form of every promontory and rock, 
and distant island. 

The blue of the sea and the blue of the sky were so much 
the same, that when the children had rowed far out, the lit- 
tle boat seemed to float midway, poised in the centre of an 
azure sphere, with a firmament above and a firmament be- 
low. Mara leaned dreamily over the side of the boat, and 
drew her little hands through the waters as they rippled 
along to the swift oars’ strokes, and she saw as the waves 
broke, and divided and shivered around the boat, a hundred 
little faces, with brown eyes and golden hair, gleaming up 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


175 


through the water, and dancing away over rippling waves, 
and thought that so the sea-nymphs might look who 
came up from the coral caves when they ring the knell 
of drowned people. Moses sat opposite to her, with his 
coat off, and his heavy black curls more wavy and glossy 
than ever, as the exercise made them damp with perspi- 
ration. 

Eagle Island lay on the blue sea, a tangled thicket of ever- 
greens, — white pine, spruce, arbor vitce , and fragrant silver 
firs. A little strip of white beach bound it, like a silver set- 
ting to a gem. And there Moses at length moored his boat, 
and the children landed. The island was wholly solitary, and 
there is something to children quite delightful in feeling that 
they have a little lonely world all to themselves. Childhood 
is itself such an enchanted island, separated by mysterious 
depths from the main-land of nature, life, and reality. 

Moses had subsided a little from the glorious heights on 
which he seemed to be in the first flush of his return, and 
he and Mara, in consequence, were the friends of old time. 
It is true he thought himself quite a man, but the manhood 
of a boy is only a tiny masquerade, — a fantastic, dreamy 
prevision of real manhood. It was curious that Mara, who 
was by all odds the most precociously-developed of the two, 
never thought of asserting herself a woman ; in fact, she 
seldom thought of herself at all, but dreamed and pondered 
of almost everything else. 

« X declare,” said Moses, looking up into a thick-branched, 
rugged old hemlock, which stood all shaggy, with heavy 
beards of gray moss drooping from its branches, “ there ’s 
an eagle’s nest up there ; I mean to go and see.” 

And up he went into the gloomy embrace of the old tree, 
crackling the dead branches, wrenching off handfuls of gray 


176 


THE PEARL OF ORR‘S ISLAND. 


moss, rising higher and higher, every once in a while turn- 
ing and showing to Mara his glowing face and curly hair 
through a dusky green frame of boughs, and then mounting 
again. “ I ’in coming to it,” he kept exclaiming. 

Meanwhile his proceedings seemed to create a sensation 
among the feathered house-keepers, one of whom rose and 
sailed screaming away into the air. In a moment after 
there was a swoop of wings, and two eagles returned and 
began flapping and screaming about the head of the boy. 

Mara, who stood at the foot of the tree, could not see 
clearly what was going on, for the thickness of the boughs ; 
she only heard a great commotion and rattling of the 
branches, the scream of the birds, and the swooping of their 
wings, and Moses’ valorous exclamations, as he seemed to 
be laying about him with a branch which he had broken 
off. 

At last he descended victorious, with the eggs in his 
pocket. Mara stood at the foot of the tree, with her sun- 
bonnet blown back, her hair streaming, and her little arms 
upstretched, as if to catch him if he fell. 

“ Oh, I was so afraid ! ” she said, as he set foot on the 
ground. 

“ Afraid ? Pooh ! Who ’s afraid ? Why, you might 
know the old eagles could n’t beat me.” 

“ Ah, well, I know how strong you are ; but, you know, 
I could n’t help it. But the poor birds, — do hear ’em 
scream. Moses, don’t you suppose they feel bad ? ” 

“ No, they ’re only mad, to think they could n’t beat me. 
I beat them just as the Romans used to beat folks', — I 
played their nest was a city, and I spoiled it.” 

“ I should n’t want to spoil cities ! ” said Mara. 

“ That ’s ’cause you are a girl, — I ’m a man, — and men 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 177 

always like war ; I ’ve taken one city this afternoon, and 
mean to take a great many more.” 

“ But, Moses, do you think war is right ? ” 

“ Bight ? why, yes, to be sure ; if it a’n’t, it ’s a pity ; for 
it ’s all that has ever been done in this world. In the Bible, 
or out, certainly it ’s right. I wish I had a gun now, I ’d 
stop those old eagles’ screeching.” 

“ But, Moses, we should n’t want any one to come and 
steal all our things, and then shoot us.” 

“ How long you do think about things ! ” said Moses, im- 
patient at her pertinacity. “ I am older than you, and when 
I tell you a thing ’s right, you ought to believe it. Besides, 
don’t you take hens’ eggs every day, in the barn ? How do 
you suppose the hens like that?” 

This was a home-thrust,. and for the moment, threw the 
little casuist off the track. She carefully folded up the idea, 
and laid it away on the inner shelves of her mind, till she 
could think more about it. 

Pliable as she was to all outward appearances, the child 
had her own still, interior world, where all her little notions 
and opinions stood up crisp and fresh, like flowers that grow 
in cool, shady places. If anybody too rudely assailed a 
thought or suggestion she put forth, she drew it back again 
into this quiet inner chamber, and went on. Reader, there 
are some women of this habit ; and there is no independence 
and pertinacity of opinion like that of these seemingly soft, 
quiet creatures, whom it is so easy to silence, and so difficult 
to convince. Mara, little and unformed as she yet was, be- 
longed to the race of those spirits to whom is deputed the 
office of the angel in the Apocalypse to whom was given 
the golden rod which measured the New Jerusalem. Infant 
though she was, she had ever in her hands that invisible 


178 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


measuring rod, which she was laying to the foundations of 
all actions and thoughts. There may, perhaps, come a time 
when the saucy boy, who now steps so superbly, and pre- 
dominates so proudly in virtue of his physical strength and 
daring, will learn to tremble at the golden measuring-rod, 
held in the hand of a woman. 

“ Howbeit, that is not first which is spiritual, but that 
which is natural.” Moses is the type of the first unreflect- 
ing stage of development, in which are only the out-reach- 
ings of active faculties, the aspirations that tend toward 
manly accomplishments. 

Seldom do we meet sensitiveness of conscience or dis- 
criminating reflection as the indigenous growth of a very 
vigorous physical development. 

Your true healthy boy has the breezy, hearty virtues of 
a Newfoundland dog, — the wild fulness of life of the young 
race-colt. Sentiment, sensibility, delicate perceptions, spirit- 
ual aspirations, are plants of later growth. 

But there are, both of men and women, beings born into 
this world in whom from childhood the spiritual and the 
reflective predominate over the physical. In relation to 
other human beings, they seem to be organized much as 
birds are in relation to other animals. They are the artists, 
the poets, the unconscious seers, to whom the purer truths 
of spiritual instruction are open. Surveying man merely 
as an animal, these sensitively-organized beings, with their 
feebler physical powers, are imperfect specimens of life. 
Looking from the spiritual side, they seem to have a noble 
strength, a divine force. The types of this latter class are 
more commonly among women than among men. Multi- 
tudes of them pass away in earlier years, and leave behind 
in many hearts the anxious wonder, why they came so fair 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


179 


only to mock the love they kindled. They who live to 
maturity are the priests and priestesses of* the spiritual life, 
ordained of God to keep the balance between the rude but 
absolute necessities of physical life and the higher sphere to 
which that must at length give place. 


180 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND- 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Moses felt elevated some inches in the world by the gift 
of a new Latin grammar, which had been bought for him 
in Brunswick. It was a step upward in life ; no graduate 
from a college ever felt more ennobled. 

“ Wal’, now, I tell ye, Moses Pennel,” said Miss Roxy, 
who, with her press-board and big flat-iron, was making her 
autumn sojourn in the brown house, “ I tell ye Latin a’n’t 
just what you think ’t is, steppin’ round so crank ; you must 
remember what the king of Israel said to Benhadad, king 
of Syria.” 

“ I don’t remember ; what did he say ? ” 

“ I remember,” said the soft voice of Mara ; “ he said, 
‘ Let not him that putteth on the harness boast as him that 
putteth it off.’ ” 

“ Good for you, Mara,” said Miss Roxy ; a if some other 
folks read their Bibles as much as you do, they ’d know 
more.” 

Between Moses and Miss Roxy there had always been a 
state of sub-acute warfare since the days of his first arri- 
val, she regarding him as an unhopeful interloper, and he 
regarding her as a grim-visaged, interfering gnome, whom 
he disliked with all the intense, unreasoning antipathy of 
childhood. 

“ I hate that old woman,” he said to Mara, as he flung 
out of the door. 


\ 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


181 


“ Why, Moses, what for ? ” said Mara, who never could 
comprehend hating anybody. 

“ I do hate her, and Aunt Ruey, too. They are two old 
scratching cats ; they hate me, and I hate them ; they ’re 
always trying to bring me down, and I won’t be brought 
down.” 

Mara had sufficient instinctive insight into the feminine 
role in the domestic concert not to adventure a direct argu- 
ment just now in favor of her friends, and therefore she 
proposed that they should sit down together under a cedar 
hard by, and look over the first lesson. 

“ Miss Emily invited me to go over with you,” she said, 
“ and I should like so much to hear you recite.” 

Moses thought this very proper, as would any other male 
person, young or old, who' has been habitually admired by 
any other female one. 

He did not doubt that, as in fishing and rowing, and all 
other things he had undertaken as yet, he should win him- 
self distinguished honors. 

“ See here,” he said ; “ Mr. Sewell told me I might go 
as far as I liked, and I mean to take all the declensions to 
begin with, — there ’s five of ’em, and I shall learn them 
for the first lesson, and then I shall take the adjectives 
next, and next the verbs, and so in a fortnight get into 
reading.” 

Mara heaved a sort of sigh. She wished she had been 
invited to share this glorious race ; but she looked on ad- 
miring when Moses read, in a loud voice, “ Penna, pennae, 
pennae, pennam,” &c. 

“ There now, I believe I ’ve got it,” he said, handing 
Mara the book; and he was perfectly astonished to find 
that, with the book withdrawn, he boggled, and blundered, 


182 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


and stumbled ingloriously. In vain Mara softly prompted, 
and looked at liim with pitiful eyes as he grew red in the 
face with his efforts to remember. 

« Confound it all ! ” he said, with an angry flush, snatch- 
ing back the book ; “ it ’s more trouble than it ’s worth.” 

Again he began the repetition, saying it very loud and 
plain ; he said it over and over till his mind wandered far 
out to sea, and while his tongue repeated “ penna, pennm,” 
he w r as counting the white sails of the fishing-smacks, and 
thinking of pulling up codfish at the Banks. 

“ There now, Mara, try me,” he said, and handed her the 
book again ; “I’m sure I must know it now.” 

But, alas ! with the book the sounds glided away ; and 
“ penna ” and “ pennarn ” and “ pennis ” and “ pennae ” were 
confusedly and indiscriminately mingled. 

He thought it must be Mara’s fault ; she did n’t read 
right, or she told him just as he was going to say it, or she 
did n’t tell him right ; or was he a fool ? or had he lost his 
senses ? 

That first declension has been a valley of humiliation to 
many a sturdy boy — to many a bright one, too ; and often 
it is, that the more full of thought and vigor the mind is, the 
more difficult is it to narrow it down to the single dry issue 
of learning those sounds. 

Heinrich Heine said the Romans would never have found 
time to conquer the world, if they had had to learn their own 
language ; but that, luckily for them, they were born into 
the knowledge of what nouns form their accusatives in “ um.” 

Long before Moses had learned the first declension, Mara 
knew it by heart ; for her intense anxiety for him, and the 
eagerness and zeal with which she listened for each termi- 
nation, fixed them in her mind. Besides, she was naturally 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 183 

of a more quiet and scholar-like turn than he, — more in- 
tellectually developed. 

Moses began to think, before that memorable day was 
through, that there was some sense in Aunt Roxy’s quota- 
tion of the saying of the King of Israel, and materially to 
retrench his expectations as to the time it might take to 
master the grammar ; Jbut still, his pride and will were both 
committed, and he worked away in this new sort of labor 
with energy. 

It was a fine frosty, November morning, when he rowed 
Mara across the bay in a little boat to recite his first lesson 
to Mr. Sewell. 

Miss Emily had provided a plate of seed-cake, otherwise 
called cookies, for the children, as was a kindly custom of 
old times, when the little people were expected. 

Miss Emily had a dim idea that she was to do something 
for Mara in her own department, while Moses was reciting 
his lesson ; and therefore producing a large sampler, dis- 
playing every form and variety of marking-stitch, she began 
questioning the little girl, in a low tone, as to her proficiency 
in that useful accomplishment. 

Presently, however, she discovered that the child was 
restless and uneasy, and that she answered without knowing 
what she was saying. The fact was that she was listening, 
with her whole soul in her eyes, and feeling through all her 
nerves, every word Moses was saying. She knew all the 
critical places, where he was likely to go wrong ; and when 
at last, in one place, he gave the wrong termination, she in- 
voluntarily called out the right one, starting up and turning 
towards them. In a moment she blushed deeply, seeing 
Mr. Sewell and Miss Emily both looking at her with sur- 
prise. 


184 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

“ Come here, pussy,” said Mr. Sewell, stretching out his 
hand to her. “ Can you say this ? ” 

“ I believe I could, sir.” 

“ Well, try it.” 

She went through without missing a word. Mr. Sewell 
then, for curiosity, heard her repeat all the other forms of 
the lesson. She had them perfectly. 

“ Very well, my little girl,” he said, “ have you been 
studying, too ? ” 

“I heard Moses say them so often,” said Mara, in an 
apologetic manner, “ I could n’t help learning them.” 

“ Would you like to recite with Moses every day ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir, so much.” 

“ Well, you shall. It is better for him to have company.” 

Mara’s face brightened, and Miss Emily looked with a 
puzzled air at her brother. 

“ So,” she said, when the children had gone home, “ I 
thought you wanted me to take Mara under my care. I 
was going to begin and teach her some marking stitches, 
and you put her up to studying Latin. I don’t under- 
stand you.” 

“ Well, Emily, the fact is, the child has a natural turn for 
study, that no child of her age ought to havd ; and I have 
done- just as people always will with such children ; there ’s 
no sense in it, but I wanted to do it. You can teach her 
marking and embroidery all the same ; it would break her 
little heart, now, if I were to turn her back.” 

“ I do not see of what use Latin can be to a woman.” 

“ Of what use is embroidery ? ” 

“ Why, that is an accomplishment.” 

“ Ah, indeed ! ” said Mr. Sewell, contemplating the weep- 
ing willow and tombstone trophy with a singular expression, 


THE PEARL OP ORR’S ISLAND. 


185 


which it was lucky for Miss Emily’s peace she did not 
understand. The fact was, that Mr. Sewell had, at one 
period of his life, had an opportunity of studying and ob- 
serving minutely some really fine works of art, and the 
remembrance of them sometimes rose up to his mind, in the 
presence of the chefs-d'oeuvre on which his sister rested with 
so much complacency. It was a part of his quiet interior 
store of amusement to look at these bits of Byzantine em- 
broidery round the room, which affected him always with a 
subtle sense of drollery. 

“ You see, brother,” said Miss Emily, “ it is far better 
for women to be accomplished than learned.” 

“ You are quite right in the main,” said Mr. Sewell, 
“ only you must let me have my own way just for once. 
One can’t be consistent always.” 

So another Latin grammar was brought, and Moses began 
to feel a secret respect for his little companion, that he had 
never done before, when he saw how easily she walked 
through the labyrinths which at first so confused him. 

Before this, the comparison had been wholly in points 
where superiority arose from physical daring and vigor ; 
now he became aware of the existence of another kind of 
strength with which he had not measured himself. Mara’s 
opinion in their mutual studies began to assume a value in 
his eyes that her opinions on other subjects had never done, 
and she saw and felt, with a secret gratification, that she was 
becoming more to him through their mutual pursuit. To 
say the truth, it required this fellowship to inspire Moses 
with the patience and perseverance necessary for this species 
of acquisition. His active, daring temperament little inclined 
him to patient, quiet study. For anything that could be 
done by two hands, he was always ready ; but to hold hands 


186 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Btill and work silently in the inner forces, was to him a 
species of undertaking that seemed against his very nature ; 
but then he would do it — he would not disgrace himself 
before Mr. Sewell, and let a girl younger than himself 
outdo him. 

But the thing, after all, that absorbed more of Moses’ 
thoughts than all his lessons was the building and rigging of 
a small schooner, at which he worked assiduously in all his 
leisure moments. He had dozens of blocks of wood, into 
which he had cut anchor moulds ; and the melting of lead, 
the running and shaping of anchors, the whittling of masts 
and spars took up many an hour. Mara entered into all 
these things readily, and was too happy to make herself 
useful in hemming the sails. 

When the schooner was finished, they built some ways 
down by the sea, and invited Sally Kittridge over to see 
it launched. 

“ There ! ” he said, when the little thing skimmed down 
prosperously into the sea and floated gayly on the waters — 
“ when I ’m a man, I ’ll have a big ship ; I ’ll build her, and 
launch her, and command her, all myself ; and I ’ll give you 
and Sally both a passage in it, and we ’ll go off to the East 
Indies — we ’ll sail round the world ! ” 

None of the three doubted the feasibility of this scheme ; 
the little vessel they had just launched seemed the visible 
prophecy of such a future ; and how pleasant it would be to 
sail off, with the world all before them, and winds ready to 
blow them to any port they might wish ! 

The three children arranged some bread and cheese and 
doughnuts on a rock on the shore, to represent the collation 
that was usually spread in those parts at a ship launch, 
and felt quite like grown people — acting life beforehand 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


187 


in that sort of shadowy pantomime which so delights little 
people. 

Happy, happy days — when ships can be made with a 
jack-knife and anchors run in pine blocks, and three chil- 
dren together can launch a schooner, and the voyage of the 
world can all be made in one sunny Saturday afternoon ! 

“ Mother says you are going to college,” said Sally to 
Moses. * 

“Not I, indeed,” said Moses; “as soon as I get old 
enough, I ’m going up to Umbagog among the lumberers, 
and I ’m going to cut real, splendid timber for my ship, and 
I ’m going to get it on the stocks, and have it built to suit 
myself.” 

“ What will you call her ? ” said Sally. 

“ I have n’t thought of that,” said Moses. 

“ Call her the Ariel,” said Mara. 

“ What ! after the spirit you were telling us about ? ” said 
Sally. 

“ Ariel is a pretty name,” said Moses. “ But what is that 
about a spirit ? ” 

“ Why,” said Sally, “ Mara read us a story about a ship 
that was wrecked, and a spirit called Ariel, that sang a song 
about the drowned mariners.” 

Mara gave a shy, apprehensive glance at Moses, to see if 
this allusion called up any painful recollections. 

No ; instead of this, he was following the motions of his 
little schooner on the waters with the briskest and most un- 
concerned air in the world. 

“ Why did n’t you ever show me that story, Mara ? ” said 
Moses. 

Mara colored and hesitated; the real reason she dared 
not say. 


188 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Why, she read it to father and me down by the cove" 
said Sally, “ the afternoon that you came home from the 
Banks ; I remember how we saw you coming in ; don’t you, 
Mara ? ” 

“ What have you done with it ? ” said Moses. 

“ I »ve got it at home,” said Mara, in a faint voice ; “ I ’ll 
show it to you, if you want to see it ; there are such beauti- 
ful things ifi it.” 

That evening, as Moses sat busy, making some alterations 
in his darling schooner, Mara produced her treasure, and 
read and explained to him the story. He listened with 
interest, though without any of the extreme feeling which 
Mara had thought possible, and even interrupted her once in 
the middle of the celebrated — 

“ Full fathom five thy father lies,” 

by asking her to hold up the mast a minute, while he drove 
in a peg to make it rake a little more. He was, evidently, 
thinking of no drowned father, and dreaming of no possible 
sea-caves, but acutely busy in fashioning a present reality ; 
and yet he liked to hear Mara read, and, when she had done, 
told her that he thought it was a pretty, — quite a pretty 
story, with such a total absence of recognition that the story 
had any affinities with his own history, that Mara was quite 
astonished. 

She lay and thought about him hours, that night, after she 
had gone to bed ; and he lay and thought about a new way 
of disposing a pulley for raising a sail, which he determined 
to try the effect of early in the morning. 

What was the absolute truth in regard to the boy ? Had 
he forgotten the scenes of his early life, the strange catas- 
trophe that cast him into his present circumstances? To 
this we answer that all the efforts of Nature, during the 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


189 


early years of a healthy childhood, are bent on effacing and 
obliterating painful impressions, wiping out from each day 
the sorrows of the last, as the daily tide effaces the furrows 
on the sea-shore. ' 

The child that broods, day after day, over some fixed idea, 
is so far forth not a healthy one. It is Nature’s way to 
make first a healthy animal, and then develop in it gradually 
higher faculties. We have seen our two children unequally 
matched hitherto, because unequally developed. 

There will come a time, by and by in the history of the 
boy, when the haze of dreamy curiosity will steam up like- 
wise from his mind, and vague yearnings, and questionings, 
and longings possess and trouble him, but it must be some 
years hence. 

Here for a season we leave both our child friends, and 
when ten years have passed over their heads, — when Moses 
shall be twenty, and Mara seventeen, — we will return again 
to tell their story, for then there will be one to tell. Let us 
suppose in the interval, how r Moses and Mara read Virgil 
with the minister, and how Mara works a shepherdess with 
Miss Emily, which astonishes the neighborhood, — but how 
by herself she learns, after divers trials, to paint partridge, 
and checkerberry, and trailing arbutus, — how Moses makes 
better and better ships, and Sally grows up a handsome girl, 
and goes up to Brunswick to the high school, — how Cap- 
tain Kittridge tells stories, and Miss Roxy and Miss Ruey 
nurse and cut and make and mend, for the still rising gen- 
eration, — how there are quiltings and tea-drinkings and 
prayer-meetings and Sunday sermons, — how Zephaniah 
and Mary Pennel grow old gradually and graciously, as the 
sun rises and sets, and the eternal silver tide rises and falls 
around our little gem, Orr’s Island. 


190 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

“ Now, where ’s Sally Kittridge ? There ’s the clock 
striking five, and nobody to set the table. Sally, I say ! 
Sally!” 

“ Why, Mis’ Kittridge,” said the Captain, “ Sally ’s gone 
out more ’n an hour ago, and I expect she ’s gone down to 
Pennel’s to see Mara ; ’cause, you know, she come home 
from Portland to-day.” 

“ Well, if she ’s come home, I s’pose I may as well give 
up havin’ any good of Sally, for .that girl fairly bows down 
to Mara Lincoln and worships her.” 

“ Well, good reason,” said the Captain. “ There a’n’t a 
puttier creature breathin’. I ’m a’most a mind to worship 
her myself.” 

“ Captain Kittridge, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, 
at your age, talking as you do.” 

“ Why, laws, mother, I don’t feel my age,” said the frisky 
Captain, giving a sort of skip. “ It don’t seem more ’n yes- 
terday since you and I was a-courtin’, Polly. What a life 
you did lead me in them days ! I think you kep’ me on the 
anxious seat a pretty middlin’ spell.” 

“ I do wish you would n’t talk so. You ought to be 
ashamed to be triflin’ round as you do. Come, now, can’t 
you jest tramp over to Pennel’s and tell Sally I want 
her?” 

M Not mother. There a’n’t but two gals in two miles 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


191 


square here, and I a’n’t a-goin’ to be the feller to shoo ’em 
apart. What ’s the use of bein’ gals, and young, and putty, 
if they can’t get together and talk about their new gownds 
and the fellers ? That ar ’s what gals is for.” 

“ I do wish you would n’t talk in that way before Sally, 
father, for her head is full of all sorts of vanity now ; and as 
to Mara, I never did see a more slack-twisted, flimsy thing 
than she ’s grown up to be. Now Sally ’s learnt to do 
something, thanks to me. She can brew, and she can make 
bread and cake and pickles, and' spin, and cut, and make. 
But as to Mara, what does she do ? Why, she paints pic- 
tur’s. Mis’ Pennel was a-showin’ on me a blue-jay she 
painted, and I was a-thinkin’ whether she could brile a bird 
fit to be eat if she tried ; and she don’t know the price of 
nothin’,” continued Mrs. Kittridge, with wasteful profusion 
of negatives. 

“ Well,” said the Captain, “ the Lord makes some things 
jist to be looked at. Their work is to be putty, and that 
ar ’s Mara’s sphere. It never seemed to me she was cut out 
for hard work ; but she ’s got sweet ways and kind words 
for everybody, and it ’s as good as a psalm to look at her.” 

“ And what sort of a wife ’ll she make, Captain Kit- 
tridge ? ” 

“ A real sweet, putty one,” said the Captain, persistently. 

“Well, as to beauty, I ’d rather have our Sally any day,” 
said Mrs. Kittridge ; “ and she looks strong and hearty, and 
seems to be good for use.” 

“ So she is, so she is,” said the Captain, with fatherly 
pride. “ Sally ’s the very image of her ma at her age — 
black eyes, black hair, tall and trim as a spruce-tree, and 
steps off as if she had springs in her heels. I tell you, the 
feller ’ll have to be spry that catches her. There ’s two or 


192 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


three of ’em at it, I see ; but Sally won’t have nothin’ to say 
to ’em. I hope she won’t, yet awhile.” 

“ Sally is a girl that has as good an eddication as money 
can give,” said Mrs. Kittridge. “ If I ’d a-had her advan- 
tages at her age, I should a-been a great deal more ’n I am. 
But we ha’n’t spared nothin’ for Sally ; and when nothin’ 
would do but Mara must be sent to Miss Plucher’s school 
over in Portland, why, I sent Sally too — for all she ’s our 
seventh child, and Pennel has n’t but the one.” 

“ You forget Moses,” said the Captain. 

“ Well, he ’s settin’ up on his own account^ I guess. They 
did talk o’ giving him college eddication ; but he was so un- 
stiddy, there were n’t no use in trying. A real wild ass’s 
colt he was.” 

“ Wal’, wal’, Moses was in the right on ’t. He took the 
cross-lot track into life,” said the Captain. “ Colleges is 
well enough for your smooth, straight-grained lumber, for 
gen’ral buildin’ ; but come to fellers that ’s got knots, and 
streaks, and cross-grains, like Moses Pennel, and the best 
way is to let ’em eddicate ’emselves, as he ’s a-doin’. He ’s 
cut out for the sea, plain enough, and he ’d better be up to 
Umbagog, cuttin’ timber for his ship, than havin’ rows with 
tutors, and blowin’ the roof off the colleges, as one o’ them 
’ere kind o’ fellers is apt to when he don’t have work to use 
up his steam. Why, mother, there ’s more gas got up in them 
Brunswick buildin’s, from young men that are spilin’ for 
hard work, than you could shake a stick at ! But Mis’ Pen- 
nel told me yesterday she was ’spectin’ Moses home to- 
day.” 

“ Oho ! that ’s at the bottom of Sally’s bein’ up there,” said 
Mrs. Kittridge. 

“ Mis’ Kittridge,” said the Captain, “ I take it you a’n't 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


103 


the woman as would expect a daughter of your bringin’ up 
to be a-runnin’ after any young chap, be he who he may,” 
said the Captain. * 

Mrs. Kittridge for once was fairly silenced by this home- 
thrust ; nevertheless, she did not the less think it quite pos- 
sible, from all that she knew of Sally ; for although that 
young lady professed great hardness of heart and contempt 
for all the young male generation of her acquaintance, yet 
she had evidently a turn for observing their ways — prob- 
ably purely in the way of philosophical inquiry. 


d 


194 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


% 


CHAPTER XIX. 

In fact, at this very moment our scene-shifter changes the 
picture. Away rolls the image of Mrs. Kittridge’s kitchen, 
with its sanded floor, its scoured rows of bright pewter plat- 
ters, its great, deep fireplace, with wide stone hearth, its little 
lookirfg-glass with a bit of asparagus bush, like a green mist, 
over it. Exeunt the image of Mrs. Kittridge, with her 
hands floury from the bread she has been moulding, and 
the dry, ropy, lean Captain, who has been sitting tilting back 
in a splint-bottomed chair, — and the next scene comes roll- 
ing in. It is a chamber in the house of Zephaniah Pennel, 
whose windows present a blue panorama of sea and sky. 
Through two windows you look forth into the blue belt of 
Harpswell Bay, bordered on the farther edge by Harpswell 
Neck, dotted here and there with houses, among which rises 
the little white meeting-house, like a mother-bird among a 
flock of chickens. The third window, on the other side of 
the room, looks far out to sea, where only a group of low, 
rocky islands interrupts the clear sweep of the horizon line, 
with its blue infinitude of distance. 

The furniture of this room, though of the barest and most 
frigid simplicity, is yet relieved by many of those touches of 
taste and fancy which the indwelling of a person of sensi- 
bility and imagination will shed off upon the physical sur- 
roundings. The bed was draped with a white spread, em- 
broidered with a kind of knotted tracery, the working of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


195 


which was considered among the female accomplishments of 
those days, and over the head of it was a painting of a 
bunch of crimson and white trillium, executed with a fidelity 
to Nature that showed the most delicate gifts of observation. 
Over the mantel-piece hung a painting of the Bay of Genoa, 
which had accidentally found a voyage home in Zephaniah 
Pennel’s sea-chest, and which skilful fingers had surrounded 
with a frame curiously wrought of moss and sea-shells. Two 
vases of India china stood on the mantel, filled with spring 
flowers, crowfoot, anemones, and liverwort, with drooping 
bells of the twin-flower. The looking-glass that hung over 
the table in one corner of the room was fancifully webbed 
with long, drooping festoons of that gray moss which hangs 
in such graceful wreaths from the boughs of the pines in the 
deep forest shadows of Orr’s Island. On the table below 
was a collection of books : a whole set of Shakspeare which 
Zephaniah Pennel had bought of a Portland bookseller ; a 
selection, in prose and verse, from the best classic writers, 
presented to Mara Lincoln, the fly-leaf said, by her sincere 
friend, Theophilus Sewell ; a Virgil, much thumbed, with an 
old, worn cover, which, however, some adroit fingers had 
concealed under a coating of delicately marbled paper ; — 
there was a Latin dictionary, a set of Plutarch’s Lives, the 
Mysteries of Udolpho, and Sir Charles Grandison, together 
with Edwards on the Affections, and Boston’s Fourfold State ; 
— there was an inkstand, curiously contrived from a sea- 
shell, Avith pens and paper in that phase of arrangement 
which betokened frequency of use ; and, lastly, a little 
work-basket, containing a long strip of curious and deli- 
cate embroidery, in which the needle yet hanging showed 
that the work was in progress. 

By a table at the sea-looking window sits our little Mara, 


196 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


now grown to the maturity of eighteen summers, but retain- 
ing still unmistakable signs of identity with the little golden- 
haired, dreamy, excitable, fanciful “ Pearl ” of Orr’s Island. 

She is not quite of a middle height, with something beau- 
tiful and childlike about the moulding of her delicate form. 
We still see those sad, wistful, hazel eyes, over which the 
lids droop with a dreamy languor, and whose dark lustre 
contrasts singularly with the golden hue of the abundant 
hair which waves in a thousand rippling undulations around 
her face. The impression she produces is not that of pale- 
ness, though there is no color in her cheek ; but her com- 
plexion has everywhere that delicate pink tinting which 
one sees in healthy infants, and with the least emotion 
brightens into a fluttering bloom. Such a bloom is on her 
cheek at this moment, as she is working away, copying a 
bunch of scarlet rock-columbine which is in a wine-glass of 
water before her ; every few moments stopping and holding 
her work at a distance, to contemplate its effect. At this 
moment there steps behind her chair a tall, lithe figure, a 
face with a rich Spanish complexion, large black eyes, glow- 
ing cheeks, marked eyebrows, and lustrous black hair, ar- 
ranged in shining braids around her head. It is our old 
friend, Sally Kittridge, whom common fame calls the hand- 
somest girl of all the region round Harps well, Macquoit, and 
Orr’s Island. In truth, a wholesome, ruddy, blooming creature 
6he was, the sight of whom cheered and warmed one like a 
good fire in December ; and she seemed to have enough and 
to spare of the warmest gifts of vitality and joyous animal 
life. She had a well-formed mouth, but rather large, and a 
frank laugh which showed all her teeth sound — and a for- 
tunate sight it was, considering that they were white and 
even as pearls ; and the hand that she laid upon Mara’s at 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


197 


this moment, though twice as large as that of the little 
artist, was yet in harmony with her vigorous, finely de- 
veloped figure. 

“ Mara Lincoln,” she said, “ you are a witch, a perfect 
little witch, at painting. How you can make things look so 
like I don’t see. Now, I could paint the things we painted 
at Miss Plucher’s ; but then, dear me ! they didn’t look at all 
like flowers. One needed to write under them what they 
were made for.” 

“ Does this look like to you, Sally ? ” sajd Mara. “ I wish 
it would to me. Just see what a beautiful clear color that 
flower is. All I can do, I can’t make one like it. My 
scarlet and yellows sink dead into the paper.” 

“ Why, I think your flowers are wonderful ! You are a 
real genius, that’s what you are ! I am only a common girl ; 
I can’t do things as you can.” 

“ You can do things a thousand times more useful, Sally. 
I don’t pretend to compare with you in the useful arts, and 
I am only a bungler in ornamental ones. Sally, I feel like 
a useless little creature. If I could go round as you can, 
and do business, and make bargains, and push ahead in the 
world, I should feel that I was good for something ; but 
somehow I can’t.” 

“ To be sure you can’t,” said Sally, laughing. “ I should 
like to see you try it.” 

“ Now,” pursued Mara, in a tone of lamentation, “ I could 
no more get into a carriage and drive to Brunswick as you 
can, than I could fly. I cant drive, Sally — something is 
the matter with me ; and the horses always know it the min- 
ute I take the reins ; they always twitch their ears and stare 
round into the chaise at me, as much as to say, ‘ What ! you 
there ? ’ and I feel sure they never will mind me. And then 


198 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

how you can make those wonderful bargains you do, I can’t 
see T — you talk up to the clerks and the men, and somehow 
you talk everybody round ; but as for me, if I only open my 
mouth in the humblest way to dispute the price, everybody 
puts me down. I always tremble when I go into a store, 
and people talk to me just as if I was a little girl, and onee 
or twice they have made me buy things that I k^jew I did n’t 
want, just because they will talk me down.” 

“ Oh, Mara, Mara,” said Sally, laughing till the tears 
rolled down her cheeks, “ what do you ever go a-shopping 
for ? — of course you ought always to send me. Why, look 
at this dress — real India chintz ; do you know I made old 
Penny whistle’s clerk up in Brunswick give it to me just for 
the price of common cotton ? You see there was a yard of 
it had got faded by lying in the shop-win’dow, and there 
were one or two holes and imperfections in it, and you ought 
to have heard the talk I made ! 'I abused it to right and 
left, and actually at last I brought the poor wretch to believe 
that he ought to be grateful to me for taking it off his hands. 
Well, you see the dress I’ve made of it. The imperfections 
didn’t hurt it the least in the world as I managed it, — and 
the faded breadth makes a good apron, so you see. And 
just so I got that red spotted flannel dress I wore last win- 
ter. It was moth-eaten in one or two places, and I made 
them let me have it at half-price ; — made exactly as good a 
dress. But after all, Mara, I can’t trim a bonnet as you can, 
and I can’t come up to your embroidery, nor your lace-work, 
nor I can’t draw and paint as you can, and I can’t sing like 
you ; and then as to all those things you talk with Mr. 
Sewell about, why they ’re beyond my depth, — that ’s all 
I ’ve got to say. Now, you are made to have poetry written 
to you, and all that kind of thing one reads of in novels. 


THE PEARL OF ORE'S ISLAND. 


199 


Nobody would ever think of writing poetry to me, now, or 
sending me flowers and rings, and such things. If a fellow 
likes me, he gives me a quince, or a big apple ; but, then, 
Mara, there a’n’t any fellows round here that are fit to speak 
to.” 

“I’m sure, Sally, there always is a train following you 
everywhere, at singing-school and Thursday lecture.” 

“ Yes — but what do I care for ’em ? ” said Sally, with a 
toss of her head. “ Why they follow me, I don’t see. I 
don’t do anything to make ’em, and I tell ’em all that they 
tire me to death ; and still they will hang round. What is 
the reason, do you suppose ? ” 

“ What can it be ? ” said Mara, with a quiet kind of arch 
drollery which suffused her face, as she bent over her paint- 
ing. 

“ Well, you know I can’t bear fellows — I think they are 
hateful.” 

“ What ! even Tom Hiers ? ” said Mara, continuing her 
painting. 

“ Tom Hiers ! Do you suppose I care for him ? He 
would insist on waiting on me round all last winter, taking 
me over in his boat to Portland, and up in his sleigh to 
Brunswick ; but I did n’t care for him.” 

“ Well, there ’s Jimmy Wilson, up at Brunswick.” 

“ What ! that little snip of a clerk ! You don’t suppose 
I care for him, do you ? — only -he almost runs his head off 
following me round when I go up there shopping; he’s 
nothing but a little dressed-up yard-stick ! I never saw a 
fellow yet that I ’d cross the street to have another look at. 
By the by, Mara, Miss Roxy told me Sunday that Moses 
was coming down from Umbagog this week.” 

“ Yes, he is,” said Mara ; “ we are looking for him every 
day.” 


200 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ You must want to see him. How long is it since yo\ 
saw him ? ” 

“ It is three years,” said Mara. “ I scarcely know what 
he is like now. I was visiting in Boston when he came 
home from his three-years’ voyage, and he was gone into the 
lumbering country when I came back. He seems almost a 
stranger to me.” 

“ He ’s pretty good-looking,” said Sally. “ I saw him on 
Sunday when he was here, but he was off on Monday, and 
never called on old friends. Does he write to you often ? ” 

“ Not very,” said Mara ; “ in fact, almost never ; and 
when he does there is so little in his letters.” 

“ Well, I tell you, Mara, you must not expect fellows to 
write as girls can. They doTi’t do it. Now, our boys, 
when they write home, they tell the latitude and longitude, 
and soil and productions, and such things. But if you or I 
■were only there, don’t you think we should find something 
more to say ? Of course we should, — fifty thousand little 
things that they never think of.” 

Mara made no reply to this, but went on very intently 
with her painting. A close observer might have noticed a 
suppressed sigh that seemed to retreat far down into her 
heart. Sally did not notice it. 

What was in that sigh ? It was the sigh of a long, deep 
inner history, unwritten and untold — such as are transpir* 
ing daily by thousands, and of which we take no heed. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


201 


CHAPTER XX. 

We have introduced Mara to our readers as she appears 
in her seventeenth year, at the time when she is expecting 
the return of Moses as a young man of twenty ; but we can- 
not do justice to the feelings which are roused in her heart 
by this expectation, without giving a chapter or two to tra- 
cing the history of Moses since we left him as a boy com- 
mencing the study of the Latin grammar with Mr. Sewell. 
The reader must see the forces that acted upon his early 
development, and what they have made of him. 

It is common for people who write treatises on education 
to give forth their rules and theories with a self-satisfied air, 
as if a human being were a thing to be made up, like a 
batch of bread, out of a given number of materials combined 
by an infallible recipe. 

Take your child, and do thus and so for a given number 
of years, and he comes out a thoroughly educated individual. 

But in fact, education is in many cases nothing more than 
a blind struggle of parents and guardians with the evolutions 
of some strong, predetermined character, individual, ob- 
stinate, unreceptive, and seeking by an inevitable law of its 
being to develop itself and gain free expression in its own 
way. Captain Kittridge’s confidence that he would as soon 
undertake a boy as a Newfoundland pup, is good for those 
whose idea of what is to be done for a human being are 
only what would be done for a dog, namely, give food, 


202 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


shelter, and world-room, and leave each to act out his own 
nature without let or hindrance. 

But everybody takes an embryo human being with some 
plan of one’s own what it shall do or be. The child’s future 
shall shape out some darling purpose or plan, and fulfil some 
long unfulfilled expectation of the parent. And thus, though 
the wind of every generation sweeps its hopes and plans like 
forest-leaves, none are whirled and tossed with more piteous 
moans than those which come out green and fresh to shade 
the happy spring-time of the cradle. 

For the temperaments of children are often as oddly jun- 
suited to parents as if capricious fairies had been filling 
cradles with changelings. 

A meek member of the Peace Society, a tender, devout, 
poetical clergyman, receives an heir from heaven, and 
straightway devotes him to the Christian ministry. But lo ! 
the boy proves a young war-horse, neighing for battle, burn- 
ing for gunpowder and guns, for bowie-knives and revolvers, 
and for every form and expression of physical force ; — he 
might make a splendid trapper, an energetic sea-captain, a 
bold, daring military man, but his whole boyhood is full of 
rebukes and disciplines for sins which are only the blind 
effort of the creature to express a nature which his parent 
does not and cannot understand. So again, the son that was 
to have upheld the old, proud merchant’s time-honored firm, 
that should have been mighty in ledgers and great upon 
’Change, breaks his father’s heart by an unintelligible fancy 
for weaving poems and romances. A father of literary aspi- 
rations, balked of privileges of early education, bends over 
the cradle of his son with but one idea. This child shall 
have the full advantages of regular college-training ; and so 
for years he battles with a boy abhorring study, and fitted 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


203 


only for a life of out-door energy and bold adventure, — on 
whom Latin forms and Greek quantities fall and melt aimless 
and useless, as snow-flakes on the hide of a buffalo. Then 
the secret agonies, — the long years of sorrowful watchings 
of those gentler nurses of humanity who receive the infant 
into their bosom out of the void unknown, and strive to read 
its horoscope through the mists of their prayers and tears ! 
— what perplexities, — what confusion ! Especially is this 
so in a community where the moral and religious sense is so 
cultivated as in New England, and frail, trembling, self-dis- 
trustful mothers are told that the shaping and ordering not 
only of this present life, but of an immortal destiny, is in 
their hands. 

On the whole, those who succeed best in the rearing of 
children, are the tolerant and easy persons who instinctively 
follow nature and accept without much inquiry whatever 
she sends ; or that far smaller class, wise to discern spirits 
and apt to adopt means to their culture and development, 
who can prudently and carefully train every nature accord- 
ing to its true and characteristic ideal. 

Zephaniah Pennel was a shrewd old Yankee, whose in- 
stincts taught him from the first, that the waif that had 
been so mysteriously washed out of the gloom of the sea into 
his family, was of some different class and lineage from that 
which might have filled a cradle of his own, and of a nature 
which he could not perfectly understand. So he prudently 
watched and waited, only using restraint enough to keep 
the boy anchored in society, and letting him otherwise grow 
up in the solitary freedom of his lonely seafaring life. 

The boy was from childhood, although singularly attrac- 
tive, of a moody, fitful, unrestful nature, — eager, earnest, 
but unsteady, — with varying phases of imprudent frankness 


204 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


and of the most stubborn and unfathomable secretiveness. 
He was a creature of unreasoning antipathies and attrac- 
tions. As Zephaniah Pennel said of him, he was as full of 
hitches as an old bureau drawer. 

His peculiar beauty, and a certain electrical power of at- 
traction, seemed to form a constant circle of protection and 
forgiveness around him in the home of his foster-parents ; 
and great as was the anxiety and pain which he often gave 
them, they somehow never felt the charge of him as a 
weariness. 

We left him a boy beginning Latin with Mr. Sewell in 
company with the little Mara. This arrangement progressed 
prosperously for a time, and the good clergyman, all whose 
ideas of education ran through the halls of a college, began to 
have hopes of turning out a choice scholar. But when the 
boy’s ship of life came into the breakers of that narrow and 
intricate channel which divides boyhood from manhood, the 
difficulties that had always attended his guidance and man- 
agement wore an intensified form. How much family hap- 
piness is wrecked just then and there ! How many mothers’ 
and sisters’ hearts are broken in the wild and confused toss- 
ings and tearings of that stormy transition ! 

A whole new nature is blindly upheaving itself, with crav- 
ings and clamorings, which neither the boy himself nor often 
surrounding friends understand. 

1 A shrewd observer has significantly characterized the 
period as the time when the boy wishes he were dead, and 
everybody else wishes so too. The wretched, half-fledged, 
half-conscious, anomalous creature has all the desires of the 
man, and none of the rights ; has a double and triple share 
of nervous edge and intensity in every part of his nature, 
and no definitely perceived objects on which to bestow it, — 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


205 


and, of course, all sorts of unreasonable moods and phases 
are the result.* 

One of the most common signs of this period, in some 
natures, is the love of contradiction and opposition, — a blind 
desire to go contrary to everything that is commonly re- 
ceived among the older people. The boy disparages the min- 
ister, quizzes the deacon, thinks the school-master an ass, and 
does n’t believe in the Bible, and seems to be rather pleased 
than otherwise with the shock and flutter that all these an- 
nouncements create among peaceably disposed grown people. 
No respectable hen that ever hatched out a brood of ducks, 
was more puzzled what to do with them than was poor Mrs. 
Pennel when her adopted nursling came into this state. 
"Was he a boy? an immortal soul? a reasonable human 
being? or only a handsome goblin sent to torment her? 

“ What shall we do with him, father ? ” said she, one 
Sunday, to Zephaniah, as he stood shaving before the little 
looking-glass in their bedroom. “ He can’t be governed 
like a child, and he won’t govern himself like a man.” 

Zephaniah stopped and strapped his razor reflectively. 

“ We must cast out anchor and wait for day,” he an- 
swered. “ Prayer is a long rope with a strong hold.” 

It was just at this critical period of life that Moses Pen- 
nel was drawn into associations which awoke the alarm of 
all his friends, and from which the characteristic wilfulness 
of his nature made it difficult to attempt to extricate him. 

In order that our readers may fully understand this part 
of our history, we must give some few particulars as to the 
peculiar scenery of Orr’s Island and the state of the country 
at this time. 

The coast of Maine, as we have elsewhere said, is remark- 
able for a singular interpenetration of the sea with the land, 


206 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


forming amid its dense primeval forests secluded bays, nar- 
row and deep, into which vessels might float with the tide, 
and where they might nestle unseen and unsuspected amid 
the dense shadows of the overhanging forest. 

At this time there was a very brisk business done all 
along the coast of Maine in the way of smuggling. Small 
vessels, lightly built and swift of sail, would run up into 
these sylvan fastnesses, and there make their deposits and 
transact their business so as entirely to elude the vigilance 
of government officers. 

It may seem strange that practices of this kind should 
ever have obtained a strong foothold in a community pecul- 
iar for its rigid morality and its orderly submission to law ; 
but in this case, as in many others, contempt of law grew 
out of weak and unworthy legislation. The celebrated 
embargo of Jefferson stopped at once the whole trade of 
New England, and condemned her thousand ships to rot 
at the wharves, and caused the ruin of thousands of fam- 
ilies. 

The merchants of the country regarded this as a flagrant, 
high-handed piece of injustice, expressly designed to cripple 
New England commerce, and evasions of this unjust law 
found everywhere a degree of sympathy, even in the breasts 
of well-disposed and conscientious people. In resistance to 
the law, vessels were constantly fitted out which ran upon 
trading voyages to the West Indies and other places ; and 
although the practice was punishable as smuggling, yet it 
found extensive connivance. From this beginning smu"- 
gling of all kinds gradually grew up in the community, and 
gained such a foothold that even after the repeal of the 
embargo it still continued to be extensively practised. Se- 
cret depositories of contraband goods still existed in many 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


207 


of the lonely haunts of islands off the coast of Maine. Hid 
in deep forest shadows, visited only in the darkness of the 
night, were these illegal stores of merchandise. And from 
these secluded resorts they found their way, no one knew 
or cared to say how, into houses for miles around. 

There was no doubt that the practice, like all other illegal 
ones, was demoralizing to the community, and particularly 
fatal to the character of that class of bold, enterprising 
young men who would be most likely to be drawn into 
it. 

Zephaniali Pennel, who was made of a kind of straight- 
grained, uncompromising oaken timber such as built the 
Mayflower of old, had always borne his testimony at home 
and abroad against any violations of the laws of the land, 
however veiled under the pretext of righting a wrong or 
resisting an injustice, and had done what he could in his 
neighborhood to enable government officers to detect and 
break up these unlawful depositories. This exposed him 
particularly to the hatred and ill-will of the operators con- 
cerned in such affairs, and a plot was laid by a few of the 
most daring and determined of them to establish one of their 
depositories on Orr’s Island, and to implicate the family of 
Pennel himself in the trade. This would accomplish two 
purposes, as they hoped, — it would be a mortification and 
defeat to him, — *a revenge which they coveted ; and it 
would, they thought, insure his silence and complicity for 
the strongest reasons. 

The situation and characteristics of Orr’s Island pecul- 
iarly fitted it for the carrying out of a scheme of this kind, 
— and for this purpose we must try to give our readers a 
more definite idea of it. 

The traveller who wants a ride through scenery of more 


208 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


varied and singular beauty than can ordinarily be found on 
the shores of any land whatever, should start some fine clear 
day along the clean sandy road, ribboned with strips of 
green grass, that leads through the flat pitch-pine forests 
of Brunswick toward the sea. As he approaches the salt 
water, a succession of the most beautiful and picturesque 
lakes seems to be lying softly cradled in the arms of wild, 
rocky forest shores, whose outlines are ever changing with 
the windings of the road. 

At a distance of about six or eight miles from Brunswick 
he crosses an arm of the sea, and comes upon the first of 
the interlacing group of islands which beautifies the shore. 
A ride across this island is a constant succession of pictures, 
whose wild and solitary beauty entirely distances all power 
of description. The magnificence of the evergreen forests, 
— their peculiar air of sombre stillness, — the rich inter- 
mingling ever and anon of groves of birch, beech, and oak, 
in picturesque knots and tufts, as if set for effect by some 
skilful landscape-gardener, — produce a sort of strange 
dreamy wonder ; while the sea, breaking forth both on the 
right hand and the left of the road into the most romantic 
glimpses, seems to flash and glitter like some strange gem 
which every moment shows itself through the framework 
of a new setting. Here and there little secluded coves push 
in from the sea, around which lie soft tracts of green mead- 
ow-land, hemmed in and guarded by rocky pine-crowned 
ridges. In such sheltered spots may be seen neat white 
houses, nestling like sheltered doves in the beautiful soli- 
tude. 

When one has ridden nearly to the end of Great Island, 
which is about four miles across, he sees rising before him, 
from the sea, a bold romantic point of land, uplifting a 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


209 


crown of rich evergreen and forest trees over shores of per- 
pendicular rock. This is Orr’s Island. 

It was not an easy matter in the days of our past expe- 
rience to guide a horse and carriage down the steep, wild 
shores of Great Island to the long bridge that connects it with 
Orr’s. The sense of wild seclusion reaches here the highest 
degree ; and one crosses the bridge with a feeling as if genii 
might have built it, and one might be going over it to 
fairy-land. From the bridge the path rises on to a high 
granite ridge, which runs from one end of the island to the 
other, and has been called the Devil’s Back, with that super- 
stitious generosity which seems to have abandoned all roman- 
tic places to so undeserving an owner. 

By the side of this ridge of granite is a. deep, narrow 
chasm, running a mile and a half or two miles parallel with 
the road, and veiled by the darkest and most solemn shadows 
of the primeval forest. Here scream the jays and the eagles, 
and fish-hawks make their nests undisturbed ; and the tide 
rises and falls under black branches of evergreen, from which 
depend long, light festoons of delicate gray moss. The dark- 
ness of the forest is relieved by the delicate foliage and the 
silvery trunks of the great white birches, which the solitude 
of centuries has allowed to grow in this spot to a height and 
size seldom attained elsewhere. 

It was this narrow, rocky cove that had been chosen by 
the smuggler Atkinson and his accomplices as a safe and 
secluded resort for their operations. He was a sea-faring 
man of Bath, one of that class who always prefer uncertain 
and doubtful courses to those which are safe and reputable. 
He was possessed of many of those traits calculated to make 
him a hero in the eyes of young men ; was dashing, free, 
and frank in his manners, with a fund of humor and an 


210 


THE PEARL OF OER’S ISLAND. 


abundance of ready anecdote which made his society fas- 
cinating; but he concealed beneath all these attractions a 
character of hard, grasping, unscrupulous selfishness, and 
an utter destitution of moral principle. 

Moses, now in his sixteenth year, and supposed to be in a 
general way doing well, under the care of the minister, was 
left free to come and go at his own pleasure, unwatched by 
Zephaniah, whose fishing operations often took him for weeks 
from home. 

Atkinson hung about the boy’s path, engaging him first in 
fishing or hunting enterprises; plied him with choice prep- 
arations of liquor, with which he would enhance the hilarity 
of their expeditions ; and finally worked on his love of 
adventure and that impatient restlessness incident to his 
period of life to draw him fully into his schemes. Moses 
lost all interest in his lessons, often neglecting them for days 
at a time — accounting for his negligence by excuses which 
were far from satisfactory. When Mara would expostulate 
with him about this, he would break out upon her with a 
fierce irritation. Was he always going to be tied to a girl’s 
apron-string? He was tired of study, and tired of old 
Sewell, whom he declared an old granny in a white wig, 
who knew nothing of the world. He was n’t going to col- 
lege — it was altogether too slow for him — he was going to 
see life and push ahead for himself. 

Mara’s life during this time was intensely wearing. A 
frail, slender, delicate girl of thirteen, she carried a heart 
prematurely old with the most distressing responsibility of 
mature life. Her love for Moses had always- had in it a 
large admixture of that maternal and care-taking element 
which, in some shape or other, qualifies the affection of 
woman to man. Ever since that dream of babyhood, when 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


211 


the vision of a pale mother had led the beautiful boy to her 
arms, Mara’ had accepted him as something exclusively her 
own, with an intensity of ownership that seemed almost to 
merge her personal identity with his. She felt, and saw, 
and enjoyed, and suffered in him, and yet was conscious of a 
higher nature in herself, by which unwillingly he was often 
judged and condemned. His faults affected her with a kind 
of guilty pain, as if they were her own ; his sins were borne 
bleeding in her heart in silence, and with a jealous watch- 
fulness to hide them from every eye but hers. She busied 
herself day and night interceding and making excuses for 
him, first to her own sensitive moral nature, and then with 
everybody around, for with one or another he was coming 
into constant collision. She felt at this time a fearful load 
of suspicion, which she dared not express to a human being. 

Up to this period she had always been the only confidant 
of Moses, who poured into her ear without reserve all the 
good and the evil of his nature, and who loved her with all 
the intensity with which he was capable of loving anything. 
Nothing so much shows what a human being is in moral 
advancement as the quality of his love. Moses Pennel’s 
love was egotistic, exacting, tyrannical, and capricious — 
sometimes venting itself in expressions of a passionate fond- 
ness, which had a savor of protecting generosity in them, 
and then receding to the icy pole of surly petulance. For 
all that, there was no resisting the magnetic attraction with 
which in his amiable moods he drew those whom he liked to 
himself. 

Such people are not very wholesome companions for those 
who are sensitively organized and predisposed to self sacrific- 
ing love. They keep the heart in a perpetual freeze and 
thaw, which, like the American northern climate, is so par- 


212 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


ticularly fatal to plants of a delicate habit. They could live 
through the hot summer and the cold winter, but they can- 
not endure the three or four months when it freezes one day 
and melts the next, — when all the buds are started out by a 
week of genial sunshine, and then frozen for a fortnight. 
These fitful persons are of all others most engrossing, be- 
cause you are always sure in their good moods that they are 
just going to be angels, — an expectation which no number 
of disappointment^ seems finally to do away. Mara believed 
in Moses’ future as she did in her own existence. He was 
going to do something great and good, — that she was certain 
of. He would be a splendid man ! Nobody, she thought, 
knew him as she did.; nobody could know how good and 
generous he was sometimes, and how frankly he would con- 
fess his faults, and what noble aspirations he had ! 

But there was no concealing from her watchful sense that 
Moses was beginning to have secrets from her. He was 
cloudy and murky ; and at some of the most harmless in- 
quiries in the world, would flash out with a sudden temper, 
as if she had touched some sore spot. 

Her bedroom was opposite to his ; and she became quite 
sure that night after night, while she lay thinking of him, 
she heard him steal down out of the house between two and 
three o’clock, and not return till a little before day-dawn. 
Where he went, and with whom, and what he was doing, 
was to her an awful mystery, — and it was one she dared 
not share with a human being. If she told her kind old 
grandfather, she feared that any inquiry from him w T ould 
only light as a spark on that inflammable spirit of pride and 
insubordination that was rising within him, and bring on an 
instantaneous explosion. Mr. Sewell’s influence she could 
hope little more from ; and as to poor Mrs. Pennel, such 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


213 


communications would only weary and distress her, without 
doing any manner of good. There was, therefore, only that 
one unfailing Confidant — the Invisible Friend to whom the 
solitary child could pour out her heart, and whose inspira- 
tions of comfort and guidance never fail to come again in 
return to true souls. 

One moonlight night, as she lay thus praying, her senses, 
sharpened by watching, discerned a sound of steps treading 
under her window, and then a low whistle. Her heart beat 
violently, and she soon heard the door of Moses’ room 
open, and then the old chamber-stairs gave forth those incon- 
siderate creaks and snaps that garrulous old stairs always 
will when anybody is desirous of making them accomplices^ 
in a night-secret. Mara rose, and undrawing her curtain, 
saw three men standing before the house, and saw Moses 
come out and join them. Quick as thought she threw on 
her clothes, and wrapping her little form in a dark cloak, 
with a hood, followed them out. She kept at a safe distance 
behind them, — so far back as just to keep them in sight. 
They never looked back, and seemed to say but little till 
they approached the edge of that deep belt of forest which 
shrouds so large a portion of the island. She hurried along, 
now nearer to them lest they should be lost to view in the 
deep shadows, while they went on crackling and plunging 
through the dense underbrush. 


214 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

It was well for Mara that so much of her life had been 
passed in wild forest rambles. She looked frail as the rays 
of moonbeam which slid down the old white-bearded hem- 
locks, but her limbs were agile and supple as steel ; and 
while the party went crashing on before, she followed with 
such lightness that the slight sound of her movements was 
entirely lost in the heavy crackling plunges of the party. 
Her little heart was beating fast and hard ; but could any 
one have seen her face, as it now and then came into a spot 
of moonshine, they might have seen it fixed in a deadly ex- 
pression of resolve and determination. She was going after 
him — no matter where ; she was resolved to know who and 
what it was that was leading him away, as her heart told 
her, to no good. Deeper and deeper into the shadows of 
the forest they went, and the child easily kept up with them. 

Mara had often rambled for whole solitary days in this 
lonely wood, and knew all its rocks and dells the whole 
three miles to the long bridge at the other end of the island. 
But she had never before seen it under the solemn stillness 
of midnight moonlight, which gives to the most familiar ob- 
jects such a strange, ghostly charm. After they had gone a 
mile into the forest, she could see through the black spruces 
silver gleams of the sea, and hear, amid the whirr and sway 
of the pine-tops, the dash of the ever restless tide which 
pushed up the long cove. It was at the full, as she could 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


215 


discern with a rapid glance of her practised eye, expertly 
versed in the knowledge of every change of the solitary 
nature around. 

And now the party began to plunge straight down the 
rocky ledge of the Devil’s Back, on which they had been 
walking hitherto, into the deep ravine where lay the cove. 
It was a scrambling, precipitous way, over perpendicular 
walls of rock, whose crevices furnished anchoring-places for 
grand old hemlocks or silver-birches, and whose rough sides, 
leathery with black flaps of lichen, were all tangled and in- 
terlaced with thick netted bushes. 

The men plunged down laughing, shouting, and swearing 
at their occasional missteps, and silently as moon-beam or 
thistle-down the light-footed shadow went down after them. 

She suddenly paused behind a pile of rock, as, through an 
opening between two great spruces, the sea gleamed out like 
a sheet of looking-glass set' in a black frame. And here the 
child saw a small vessel swinging at anchor, with the moon- 
light full oa its slack sails, and she could hear the gentle 
gurgle and lick of the green-tongued waves as they dashed 
under it toward the rocky shore. 

Mara stopped with a beating heart as she saw the com- 
pany making for the schooner. The tide is high ; will they 
go on board and sail away with him where she cannot fol- 
low ? What could she do ? In an ecstasy of fear she 
kneeled down and asked God not to let him go, — to give 
her at least one more chance to save him. 

For the pure and pious child had heard enough of the 
words of these men, as she walked behind them, to fill her 
with horror. She had never - before heard an oath, but 
there came back from these men coarse, brutal tones and 
words of blasphemy that froze her blood with horror. And 


216 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Moses was going with them ! She felt somehow as if they 
must be a company of fiends bearing him to his ruin. 

For some time she kneeled there watching behind the 
rock, while Moses and his companions went on board the lit- 
tle schooner. She had no feeling of horror at the loneliness 
of her own situation, for her solitary life had made every 
woodland thing dear and familiar to her. She was cowering 
down on a loose, spongy bed of moss, which was all threaded 
through and through with the green vines and pale pink 
blossoms of the mayflower, and she felt its fragrant breath 
steaming up in the moist moonlight. As she leaned forward 
to look through a rocky crevice, her arras rested on a bed of 
that brittle white moss she had often gathered with so much 
admiration, and a scarlet rock-columbine, such as she loved 
to paint, brushed her cheek, — and all these mute fair things 
seemed to strive to keep her company in her chill suspense 
of watchfulness. Two whippoorwills, from a clump of sil- 
very birches, kept calling to each other in melancholy iter- 
ation, while she staid there still listening, and knowing by 
an occasional sound of laughing, or the explosion of some 
oath, that the men were not yet gone. At last they all ap- 
peared again, and came to a cleared place among the dry 
leaves, quite near to the rock where she was concealed, and 
kindled a fire, which they kept snapping and crackling by a 
constant supply of green resinous hemlock branches. 

The red flame danced and leaped through the green fuel, 
and leaping upward in tongues of flame, cast ruddy bronze 
reflections on the old pine-trees with their long branches wav- 
ing with beards of white moss, — and by the firelight Mara 
could see two men in sailor’s 'dress with pistols in their belts, 
and the man Atkinson, whom she had recollected as having 
seen once or twice at her grandfather’s. She remembered 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


217 


how she had always shrunk from him with a strange instinc- 
tive dislike, half fear, half disgust, when he had addressed 
her with that kind of free admiration, which men of his class 
often feel themselves at liberty to express to a pretty girl of 
her early age. He was a man that might have been hand- 
some, had it not been for a certain strange expression of 
covert wickedness. It was as if some vile evil spirit, walk- 
ing, as the Scriptures say, through dry places, had lighted 
ou a comely man’s body, in which he had set up house-keep- 
ing, making it look like a fair house abused by an unclean 
owner. 

As Mara watched his demeanor with Moses, she could 
think only of a loathsome black snake that she had once 
seen in those solitary rocks ; — she felt as if his handsome 
but evil eye were charming him with an evil charm to his 
destruction. 

“Well, Mo, my boy/’ she heard him say, — slapping 
Moses on the shoulder, — “ this is something like. We ’ll 
have a ‘ tempus/ as the college fellows say, — put down the 
clams to roast, and I ’ll mix the punch,” he said, setting over 
the fire a tea-kettle which they brought from the ship. 

After their preparations were finished, all sat down to eat 
and drink. Mara listened with anxiety and horror to a con- 
versation such as she never heard or conceived before. It 
is not often that women hear men talk in the undisguised 
manner which they use among themselves ; but the conver- 
sation of men of unprincipled lives, and low, brutal habits, 
unchecked by the presence of respectable female society, 
might well convey to the horror-struck child a feeling as if 
she were listening at the mouth of hell. Almost every word 
was preceded or emphasized by an oath ; and what struck 
with a death chill to her heart was, that Moses swore too, 
10 




218 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

and seemed to show that desperate anxiety to seem au fait 
in the language of wickedness, which boys often do at that 
age, w'hen they fancy that to be ignorant of vice is a 
mark of disgraceful greenness. Moses evidently was bent 
on showing that he was not green, — ignorant of the pure 
ear to which every such word came like the blast of death. 

He drank a great deal, too, and the mirth among them 
grew furious and terrific. Mara, horrified and shocked as 
she was, did not, however, lose that intense and alert pres- 
ence of mind, natural to persons in whom there is moral 
strength, however delicate be their physical frame. She 
felt at once that these men were playing upon Moses ; that 
they had an object in view ; that they were flattering and 
cajoling him, and leading him to drink, that they might work 
out some fiendish purpose of their own. The man called 
Atkinson related story after story of wild adventure, in 
which sudden fortunes had been made by men who, he said, 
were not afraid to take “ the short cut across lots.” He told 
of piratical adventures in the West Indies, — of the fun of 
chasing and overhauling ships, — and gave dazzling ac- 
counts of the treasures found on board. It was observable 
that all these stories were told on the line between joke and 
earnest, — as frolics, as specimens of good fun, and seeing 
life, etc. 

At last came a suggestion, — What if they should start off 
together some fine day “just for a spree,” and try a cruise 
in the West Indies, to see what they could pick up ? They 
had arms, and a gang of fine, whole-souled fellows. Moses 
had been tied to Ma’am Pennel’s apron-string long enough. 
And “ hark ye,” said one of them, “ Moses, they say old 
Pennel has lots of dollars in that old sea-chest of his’n. It 
would be a kindness to him to invest them for him in an 
adventure.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


219 


Moses answered with a streak of the boy innocence which 
often remains under the tramping of evil men, like ribbons 
of green turf in the middle of roads : — 

“You don’t know Father Pennel, — why, he’d no more 
come into it than ” 

A perfect roar of laughter cut short this declaration, and 
Atkinson, slapping Moses on the back, said, — 

“ By , Mo ! you are the jolliest green dog ! I shall 

die a-laughing of your innocence some day. Why, my boy, 
can’t you see ? Pennel’s money can be invested without 
asking him” 

“ Why, he keeps it locked,” said Moses. 

“ And supposing you pick the lock ? ” 

“ Not I, indeed,” said Moses, making a sudden movement 
to rise. 

Mara almost screamed in her ecstasy, but she had sense 
enough to hold her breath. 

“ Ho ! see him now,” said Atkinson, lying back, and hold- 
ing his sides while he laughed, and rolled over ; “ you can 
get off anything on that muff, — any hoax in the world, — 
he ’s so soft ! Come, come, my dear boy, sit down. I was 
only seeing how wide I could make you open those great 
black eyes of your’n, — that ’s all.” 

“ You ’d better take care how you joke with me,” said 
Moses, with that look of gloomy determination which Mara 
was quite familiar with of old. It was the rallying effort of 
a boy who had abandoned the first outworks of virtue to 
make a stand for the citadel. And Atkinson, like a prudent 
besieger after a repulse, returned to lie on his arms. 

He began talking volubly on other subjects, telling stories, 
and singing songs, and pressing Moses to drink. 

Mara was comforted to see that he declined drinking, — 


220 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


that he looked gloomy and thoughtful, in spite of the jokes 
of his companions ; but she trembled to see, by the follow- 
ing conversation, how Atkinson was skilfully and prudently 
making apparent to Moses the extent to which he had him 
in his power. He seemed to Mara like an ugly spider skil- 
fully weaving his web around a fly. She felt cold and faint ; 
but within her there was a heroic strength. 

She was not going to faint ; she would make herself bear 
up. She was going to do something to get Moses out of 
this snare, — but what ? At last they rose. 

“ It is past three o’clock,” she heard one of them say. 

“ I say, Mo,” said Atkinson, “ you must make tracks for 
hotne, or you won’t be in bed when Mother Pennel calls 
you.” 

The men all laughed at this joke as they turned to go on 
board the schooner. 

When they were gone, Moses threw himself down and hid 
his face in his hands. He knew not what pitying little face 
was looking down upon him from the hemlock shadows, — 
what brave little heart was determined to save him. He 
was in one of those great crises of agony that boys pass 
through when they first awake from the fun and frolic of 
unlawful enterprises to find themselves sold under sin, and 
feel the terrible logic of evil which constrains them to pass 
from the less to greater crime. He felt that he was in the 
power of bad, unprincipled, heartless men, who, if he refused 
to do their bidding, had the power to expose him. All he 
had been doing would come out. His kind old foster-parents 
would know it. Mara would know it. Mr. Sewell and Miss 
Emily would know the secrets of his life that past month. 
He felt as if they were all looking at him now. He had dis- 
graced himself, — had sunk below his education, — had been 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


221 


false to all his better knowledge and the past expectations of 
his friends, — living a mean, miserable, dishonorable life, — 
and now the ground was fast sliding from under him, and the 
next plunge might be down a precipice from which there 
would be no return. What he had done up to this hour had 
been done in the roystering, inconsiderate gamesomeness of 
boyhood. It had been represented to himself only as “ sow- 
ing wild oats,” “ having steep times,” “ seeing a little of life,” 
and so on ; but this night he had had propositions of piracy 
and robbery made to him, and he had not dared to knock 
down the man that made them, — had not dared at once to 
break away from his company. He must meet him again, — 
must go on with him, or — he groaned in agony at the thought. 

It was a strong indication of that repressed, considerate 
habit of mind which love had wrought in the child, that 
when Mara heard the boy’s sobs rising in the stillness, she 
did not, as she wished to, rush out and throw her arms 
around his neck and try to <comfort him. 

But she felt instinctively that she must not do this. She 
must not let him know that she had discovered his secret by 
stealing after him thus in the night shadows. She knew how 
nervously he had resented even the compassionate glances 
she had cast upon him in his restless, turbid intervals during 
the past few weeks, and the fierceness with which he had 
replied to a few timid inquiries. No, — though her heart 
was breaking for him, it was a shrewd, wise little heart, and 
resolved not to spoil all by yielding to its first untaught im- 
pulses. She repressed herself as the mother does who re- 
frains from crying out when she sees her unconscious little 
one on the verge of a precipice. 

When Moses rose and moodily began walking homeward, 
she followed at a distance. She could now keep farther off, 


222 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


for she knew the way through every part of the forest, and 
she only ^wanted to keep within sound of his footsteps to 
make sure that he was going home. 

When he emerged from the forest into the open moonlight, 
she sat down in its shadows and watched him as he walked 
over the open distance between her and the house. He went 
in ; and then she waited a little longer for him to be quite 
retired. She thought he would throw himself on the bed, 
and then she could steal in after him. So she sat there quite 
in the shadows. 

The grand full moon was riding high and calm in the pur- 
ple sky, and Harpswell Bay on the one hand, and the wide, 
open ocean on the other, lay all in a silver shimmer of light. 
There was not a sound save the plash of the tide, now be- 
ginning to go out, and rolling and rattling the pebbles up 
and down as it came and went, and once in a while the dis- 
tant, mournful intoning of the whippoorwill. There were 
silent, lonely ships, sailing slowly to and fro far out to sea, 
turning their fair wings now into bright light and now into 
shadow, as they moved over the glassy stillness. Mara 
could see all the houses on Harpswell Neck and the white 
church as clear as in the daylight. It seemed to her some 
strange, unearthly dream. 

As she sat there she thought over her whole little life, all 
full of one thought, one purpose, one love, one prayer, for 
this being so strangely given to her out of that silent sea, 
which lay so like a still eternity around her, — and she re- 
volved again what meant the vision of her childhood. Did 
it not mean that she was to watch over him and save him 
from some dreadful danger ? That poor mother was lying 
now silent and peaceful under the turf in the little graveyard 
not far off, and she must care for her boy. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


223 


A strong motherly feeling swelled out the girl’s heart, — 
she felt that she must, she would, somehow save that treasure 
which had so mysteriously been committed to her. 

So, when she thought she had given time enough for 
Moses to -be quietly asleep in his room, she arose and 
ran with quick footsteps across the moonlit plain to the 
house. 

The front-door was standing wide open, as was always the 
innocent fashion in these regions, with a half-angle of moon- 
light and shadow lying within its dusky depths. Mara 
listened a moment, — no sound : he had gone to bed then. 
“ Poor boy,” she said, “ I hope he is asleep ; how he must 
feel ! poor fellow. It ’s all the fault of those dreadful men ! ” 
said the little dark shadow to herself, as she stole up the 
stairs past his room as guiltily as if she were the sinner. 
Once the stairs creaked, and her heart was in her mouth, 
but she gained her room and shut and bolted the door. 

She kneeled down by her little white bed, and thanked 
God that she had come in safe, and then prayed him to 
teach her what to do next. 

She felt chilly and shivering, and crept into bed, and lay 
with her great soft brown eyes wide open, intently thinking 
what she should do. 

Should she tell her grandfather ? Something instinctively 
6aid No ; that the first word from him which showed Moses 
he was detected, would at once send him off with those 
wicked men. “ He would never, never bear to have this 
known,” she said. Mr. Sewell? — ah, that was worse. 
She herself shrank from letting him know what Moses had 
been doing ; she could not bear to lower him so much in his 
eyes. He could not make allowances, she thought. He is 
good to be sure, but he is so old and grave, and does n’t 


224 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


know how much Moses has been tempted by these dreadful 
men ; and then perhaps he would tell Miss Emily, and they 
never would want Moses to come there any more. 

“ What shall I do ? ” she said to herself. “ I must get 

somebody to help me or tell me what to do. I can’t tell 

grandmamma ; it would only make her ill, and she would n’t 
know w T hat to do any more than I. Ah, I know what I will 
do, — I ’ll tell Captain Kittridge ; he was always so kind to 
me ; and he has been to sea and seen all sorts of men, and 
Moses won’t care so much perhaps to have him know, be- 
cause the Captain is such a funny man, and don’t take 
everything so seriously. Yes, that ’s it. I ’ll go right 
down to the cove in the morning. God will bring me 
through, I know He will ; ” and the little weary head fell 

back on the pillow asleep. And as she slept, a smile set- 

tled over her face, perhaps a reflection from the face of her 
good angel, who always beholdeth the face of our Father in 
Heaven. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


225 


CHAPTER XXII. 

Mara was so wearied with her night walk and the agita- 
tion she had been through, that once asleep she slept long 
after the early breakfast hour of the family. She was sur- 
prised on awaking to hear the slow old clock down-stairs 
striking eight. 

o o 

She hastily jumped up and looked around with a confused 
wonder, and then slowly the events of the past night came 
back upon her like a remembered dream. She dressed 
herself quickly, and went down to find the breakfast things 
all washed and put away, and Mrs. Pennel spinning. 

“ Why, dear heart,” said the old lady, “ how came you to 
sleep so ? — I spoke to you twice, but I could not make you 
hear.” 

“ Has Moses been down, grandma ? ” said Mara, intent on 
the sole thought in her heart. 

“ Why, yes, dear, long ago, — and cross enough he was ; 
that boy does get to be a trial, — but come, dear, I *ve 
saved some hot cakes for you, — sit down now and eat 
your breakfast.” 

Mara made a feint of eating what her grandmother with 
fond officiousness would put before her, and then rising up 
she put on her sun-bonnet and started down toward the cove 
to find her old friend. 

The queer, dry, lean old Captain had been to her all her 
life like a faithful kobold or brownie, an unquestioning ser- 
10 * 


226 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


vant of all her gentle biddings. She dared tell him any- 
thing without diffidence or shamefacedness ; and she felt that 
in this trial of her life he might have in his sea-receptacle 
some odd old amulet or spell that should be of power to help 
her. Instinctively she avoided the house, lest Sally should 
see and fly out and seize her. She took a narrow path 
through the cedars down to the little boat cove where the 
old Captain worked so merrily ten years ago, in the begin- 
ning of our story, and where she found him now with his 
coat off busily planing a board. 

“ Wal’, now, — if this ’ere don’t beat all ! ” he said, look- 
ing up and seeing her ; “ why, you ’re looking after Sally, I 
s’pose ? She ’s up to the house.” 

“ No, Captain Kittridge, I ’m come to see you.” 

“ You be ? ” said the Captain, “ I swow ! if I a’n’t a lucky 
feller. But what ’s the matter ? ” he said, suddenly observ- 
ing her pale face, and the tears in her eyes. “ Ha’ n’t 
nothin’ bad happened, — hes there ? ” 

“ Oh ! Captain Kittridge, something dreadful ; and nobody 
but you can help me.” 

“ Want to know now ? ” said the Captain, with a grave 
face. “ Well, come here now and sit down, and tell me all 
about it. Don’t you cry, there ’s a good girl ! Don’t now.” 

Mara began her story, and went through with it in a 
rapid and agitated manner ; and the good Captain listened 
in a fidgety state of interest, occasionally relieving his mind 
by interjecting “ Do tell now ! ” “ I swan, — if that ar 

a’n’t too bad.” 

“ That ar ’s rediculous conduct in Atkinson. He ought to 
be talked to, said the Captain when she had finished, and 
then he whistled and put a shaving in his mouth, which he 
chewed reflectively. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


227 


“ Don’t you be a mite worried, Mara,” he said. “ You 
did a great deal better to come to me than to go to Mr. 
Sewell or your grand’ther either ; ’cause you see these ’ere 
wild chaps they ’ll take things from me they would n’t from 
a church-member or a minister. Folks must n’t pull ’em up 
with too short a rein, — they must kind o’ flatter ’em off*. 
But that ar Atkinson ’s too rediculous for anything ; and if 
he don’t mind, I ’ll serve him out. I know a thing or two 
about him that I shall shake over his head if he don’t be- 
have. Now I don’t think so much of smugglin’ as some 
folks,” said the Captain, lowering his voice to a confidential 
tone. “ I reely don’t, now ; but come to goin’ off* piratin’, 
• — and tryin’ to put a young boy up to robbin’ his best 
friends, — why, there a’n’t no kind o’ sense in that. It ’s 
p’ison mean of Atkinson. I shall tell him so, and I shall 
talk to Moses.” 

“ Oh ! I ’m afraid to have you,” said Mara, apprehensively. 

“ Why, chickabiddy,” said the old Captain, “ you don’t 
understand me. I a’n’t goin’ at him with no sermons, — I 
shall jest talk to him this way : Look here now, Moses, I 
shall say, there ’s Badger’s ship goin’ to sail in a fortnight 
for China, and they want likely fellers aboard, and I ’ve got 
a hundred dollars that I ’d like to send on a venture ; if 
you ’ll take it and go, why, we ’ll share the profits. I shall 
talk like that, you know. Mebbe I sha’ n’t let him know 
what I know, and mebbe I shall ; jest tip him a wink, you 
know ; it depends on circumstances. But bless you, child, 
these ’ere fellers a’n’t none of ’em ’fraid o’ me, you see, 
’cause they know I know the ropes.” 

« And can you make that horrid man let him alone ? ” 
said Mara, fearfully. 

« Calculate I can. ’Spect if I ’s to tell Atkinson a few 


228 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


things I know, he ’d be for bein’ scase in our parts. Now, 
you see, I ha’ n’t minded doin’ a small bit o’ trade now and 

then with them ar fellers myself; but this ’ere,” said the 

Captain, stopping and looking extremely disgusted, “ why, 
it ’s contemptible, it ’s rediculous !*’ 

“ Do you think I ’d better tell grandpapa ? ” said Mara. 
“ Don’t worry your little head. I ’ll step up and have a 
talk with Pennel this evening. He knows as well as I that 
there is times when chaps must be seen to, and no remarks 
made. Pennel knows that ar. Why, now, Mis’ Kittridge 
thinks our boys turned out so well all along of her bringin’ 
up, and I let her think so ; keeps her sort o’ in spirits, you 

see. But Lord bless ye, child, there ’s been times with 

Job, and Sam, and Pass, and Dass, and Dile, and all on ’em 
finally, when, if I had n’t jest pulled a rope here and turned 
a screw there, and said nothin’ to nobody, they ’d a-been all 
gone to smash. I never told Mis’ Kittridge none o’ their 
didos ; bless you, ’t would n’t been o’ no use. I never told 
them, neither ; but I jest kind o’ worked ’em off, you know ; 
and they ’s all putty ’spectable men now, as men go, you 
know ; not like Parson Sewell, but good, honest mates and 
ship-masters, — kind o’ middlin’ people, you know. It takes 
a good many o’ sich to make up a world, d’ ye see.” 

“ But oh, Captain Kittridge, did any of them use to 
swear V’ said Mara, in a faltering voice. 

“Wal’, they did consid’able,” said the Captain; — then 
seeing the trembling of Mara’s lip, he added, — 

“ Ef you could a-found this ’ere out any other way, it ’s 
most a pity you ’d a-heard him ; ’cause he would n’t never 
have let out afore you. It don’t do for gals to hear the 
fellers talk when they ’s alone, ’cause fellers, — wal’, you 
see, fellers will be fellers, partic’larly when they V young. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


229 


Some on ’em, they never gits over it all their lives 
finally.” 

“ But oh ! Captain Kittridge, that talk last night was so 
dreadfully wicked ! and Moses ! — oh, it was dreadful to 
hear him. ! ” 

“ Wal’, yes, it was,” said the Captain, consolingly ; “ but 
don’t you cry and don’t you break your little heart. I ex- 
pect he ’ll come all right, and jine the church one of those 
days ; ’cause there ’s old Pennel, he prays, — fact now, I 
think there ’s consid’able in some people’s prayers, and he ’s 
one of the sort. And you pray, too ; and I ’m quite sure 
the good Lord must hear you. I declare sometimes I wish 
you ’d jest say a good word to Him for me ; I should like 
to get the hang o’ things a little better than I do somehow, 
I reely should. I ’ve gi’n up swearing years ago. Mis’ 
Kittridge, she broke me o’ that, and now I don’t never go 
further than ‘ I vum ’ or ‘ I swow,’ or somethin’ o’ that sort ; 
but you see I ’m old ; — Moses is young ; but then he ’s got 
eddication and friends, and he ’ll come all right. Now you 
jest see ef he don’t ! ” 

This miscellaneous budget of personal experiences and 
friendly consolation which the good Captain conveyed to 
Mara may possibly make you laugh, my reader, but the 
good, ropy brown man was doing his best to console his 
little friend; and as Mara looked at him he was almost 
glorified in her eyes — he had power to save Moses, and 
he would do it. 

She went home to dinner that day with her heart con- 
siderably lightened. She refrained, in a guilty way, from 
even looking at Moses, who was gloomy and moody. 

Mara had from nature a good endowment of that kind of 
innocent hypocrisy which is needed as a staple in the lives 


230 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

of women who bridge a thousand awful chasms with smiling, 
unconscious looks, and walk, singing and scattering flowers, 
over abysses of fear, while their hearts are dying within 
them. 

She talked more volubly than was her wont with Mrs. 
Pennel, and with her old grandfather ; she laughed and 
seemed in more than usual spirits, and only once did she 
look up and catch the gloomy eye of Moses. It had that 
murky, troubled look that one may see in the eye of a boy 
when those evil waters which cast up mire and dirt have 
once been stirred in his soul. They fell under her clear 
glance, and he made a rapid, impatient movement, as if 
it hurt him to be looked at. The evil spirit in boy or man 
cannot bear the “ touch of celestial temper ; ” and the sen- 
sitiveness to eyebeams is one of the earliest signs of con- 
scious, inward guilt. 

Mara was relieved, as he flung out of the house after din- 
ner, to see the long, dry figure of Captain Kittridge coming 
up and seizing Moses by the button. 

From the window she saw the Captain assuming a con- 
fidential air with him ; and when they had talked together 
a few moments, she saw Moses going with great readiness 
after him down the road to his house. 

In less than a fortnight, it was settled Moses was to sail 
for China, and Mara was deep in the preparations for his 
outfit. Once she would have felt this departure as the most 
dreadful trial of her life. Now it seemed to her a deliver- 
ance for him, and she worked with a cheerful alacrity, which 
seemed to Moses was more than was proper, considering he 
was going away. 

For Moses, like many others of his sex, boy or man, had 
quietly settled in his own mind that the whole love of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


231 


Mara’s heart was to be his, to have and to hold, to use and 
to draw on, when and as he liked. He reckoned on it as a 
sort of inexhaustible, uncounted treasure that was his own 
peculiar right and property, and therefore he felt abused at 
what he supposed was a disclosure of some deficiency on her 
part. 

“ You seem to be very glad to be rid of me,” he said to 
her in a bitter tone one day, as she was earnestly busy in 
her preparations. 

Now the fact was, that Moses had been assiduously mak- 
ing himself disagreeable to Mara for the fortnight past, by 
all sorts of unkind sayings and doings ; and he knew it too ; 
yet he felt a right to feel very much abused at the thought 
that she could possibly want him to be going. 

If she had been utterly desolate about it, and torn her 
hair and sobbed and wailed, he would have asked what she 
could be crying about, and begged not to be bored with 
scenes; but as it was, this cheerful composure was quite 
unfeeling. 

Now pray don’t suppose Moses to be a monster of an un- 
common species. We take him to be an average specimen 
of a boy of a certain kind of temperament in the transition 
period of life. Everything is chaos within — the flesh 
lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, 
and “ light and darkness, and mind and dust, and passion 
and pure thoughts, mingle and contend,” without end or 
order. 

He wondered at himself sometimes that he could say 
such cruel things as he did to his faithful little friend — 
to one whom, after all, he did love and trust before all other 
human beings. 

There is no saying why it is that a man or a boy, not 


232 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


radically destitute of generous comprehensions, will often 
cruelly torture and tyrannize over a woman whom he 
both loves and reveres — who stands in his soul in his 
best hours as the very impersonation of all that is good 
and beautiful. 

It is as if some evil spirit at times possessed him, and 
compelled him to utter words which were felt at the mo- 
ment to be mean and hateful. 

Moses often wondered at himself, as he lay awake nights, 
how he could have said and done the things he had, and felt 
miserably resolved to make it up somehow before he went 
away — but he did not. 

He could not say, “ Mara, I have done wrong,” though he 
every day meant to do it, and sometimes sat an hour in her 
presence, feeling murky and stony, as if possessed by a 
dumb spirit — then he would get up and fling stormily 
out of the liouse. 

Poor Mara wondered if he really would go without one 
kind word. She thought of all the years they had been to- 
gether, and how he had been her only thought and love. 

What had become of her brother ? — the Moses that once 
she used to know — frank, careless, not ill tempered, and 
who sometimes seemed to love her and think she was the 
best little girl in the world ? Where was he gone to — this 
friend and brother of her childhood, and would he never 
come back ? 

At last came the evening before his parting ; the sea-chest 
was all made up and packed ; and Mara’s fingers had been 
busy with everything, from more substantial garments down 
to all those little comforts and nameless conveniences that 
only a woman knows how to improvise. Mara thought cer- 
tainly she should get a few kind words as Moses looked it 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


233 


over. But he only said, “ All right ; ” and then added that 
u there was a button off one of the shirts.” Mara’s busy 
fingers quickly replaced it, and Moses was annoyed at the 
tear that fell on the button. What was she crying for now ? 
He knew very well, but he felt stubborn and cruel. After- 
wards he lay awake many a night in his berth, and acted 
this last scene over differently. He took Mara in his arms 
and kissed her ; he told her she was his best friend, his good 
angel, and that he was not worthy to kiss the hem of her 
garment ; but the next day, when he thought of writing a 
letter to her, he did n’t, and the good mood passed away. 

Boys do not acquire an ease of expression in letter-writ- 
ing as early as girls, and a voyage to China furnished oppor- 
tunities few and far between of sending letters. 

Now and then, through some sailing ship, came missives 
which seemed to Mara altogether colder and more unsatis- 
factory than they would have done could she have appre- 
ciated the difference between a boy and a girl in power of 
epistolary expression ; for the power of really representing 
one’s heart on paper, which is one of the first spring flowers 
of early womanhood, is the latest blossom on the slow grow- 
ing tree of manhood. To do Moses justice, these seeming 
cold letters were often written with a choking lump in his 
throat, caused by thinking over his many sins against his 
little good angel; but then that past, account was so long, 
and had so much that it pained him to think of, that he 
dashed it all off in the shortest fashion, and said to himself, 
“ One of these days when I see her I ’ll make it all up.” 

No man — especially one that is living a rough, busy, out- 
of-doors life — can form the slightest conception of that 
veiled and secluded life which exists in the heart of a sensi- 
tive woman, whose sphere is narrow, whose external diver- 


234 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


sions are few, and whose mind, therefore, acts by a continual 
introversion upon itself. They know nothing how their 
careless words and actions are pondered and turned again in 
weary, quiet hours of fruitless questioning. What did he 
mean by this ? and what did he intend by that ? — while he, 
the careless buffalo, meant nothing, or has forgotten what it 
was, if he did. 

Man’s utter ignorance of woman’s nature is a cause of a 
great deal of unsuspected cruelty which he practises toward 
her. 

Mara found one or two opportunities of writing to Moses ; 
but her letters were timid and constrained by a sort of frosty, 
discouraged sense of loneliness ; and Moses, though he knew 
he had no earthly right to expect this to be otherwise, took 
upon him to feel as an abused individual, whom nobody 
loved — whose way in the world was destined to be lonely 
and desolate. So when, at the end of three years, he arrived 
suddenly at Brunswick in the beginning of winter, and came 
all burning with impatience to the home at Orr’s Island, and 
found that Mara had gone to Boston on a visit, he resented 
it as a personal slight. 

He might have inquired why she should expect him, and 
whether her whole life was to be spent in looking out of the 
window to watch for him. He might have remembered that 
he had warned her of his approach by no letter. But no. 
“ Mara did n’t care for him — she had forgotten all about 
him — she was having a good time in Boston, just as likely 
as not with some train of admirers, and he had been tossing 
on the stormy ocean, and she had thought nothing of it.” 

How many things he had meant to say ! He had never 
felt so good and so affectionate. He would have confessed 
all the sins of his life to her, and asked her pardon — and 
she was n’t there ! 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


235 


Mrs. Pennel suggested that he might go to Boston after 
her. 

No, he was not going to do that. He would not intrude 
on her pleasures with the memory of a rough, hard-working 
sailor. He was alone in the world, and had his own way to 
make, and so best go at once up among lumbermen, and cut 
the timber for the ship that was to carry Caesar and his 
fortunes. 

When Mara was informed by a letter from Mrs. Pennel, 
expressed in the few brief words in which that good woman 
generally embodied her epistolary communications, that Mo- 
ses had been at home, and gone to Umbagog without seeing 
her, she felt at her heart only a little closer stricture of a 
cold quiet pain, which had become a habit of her inner life. 

“ He did not love her — he was cold and selfish,” said 
the inner voice. And faintly she pleaded, in answer, “ He 
is a man — he has seen the world — and has so much to do 
and think of, no wonder.” 

In fact, during the last three years that had parted them, 
the great change of life had been consummated in both. 
They had parted boy and girl ; they would meet man and 
woman. The time of this meeting had been announced. 

And*all this is the history of that sigh — so very quiet 
that Sally Kittridge never checked the rattling flow of her 
conversation to observe it. 



236 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

We have in the last three chapters brought up the history 
of our characters to the time when our story opens, when 
Mara and Sally Kittridge were discussing the expected re- 
turn of Moses. 

Sally was persuaded by Mara to stay and spend the night 
with her, and did so without much fear of what her mother 
would say when she returned ; for though Mrs. Kittridge 
still made bustling demonstrations of authority, it was quite 
evident to every one that the handsome grown-up girl had 
got the sceptre into her own hands, and was reigning in the 
full confidence of being, in one way or another, able to bring 
her mother into all her views. 

So Sally stayed — to have one of those long night-talks in 
which girls delight, in the course of which all sorts of inti- 
macies and confidences, that shun the daylight, open like the 
night-blooming cereus in strange successions. 

One often wonders by daylight at the things one says 
very naturally in the dark. 

So the two girls talked about Moses, and Sally dilated 
jpon his handsome, manly air the one Sunday that he had 
appeared in Harpswell meeting-house. 

“ He did n’t know me at all, if you ’ll believe it,” said 
Sally. “ I was standing with father when he came out, and 
he shook hands with him, and looked at me as if I ’d been 
an entire stranger.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


237 


“ I *ni not in the least surprised,” said Mara ; “ you ’re 
grown so and altered.” 

“ Well, now, you ’d hardly know him, Mara,” said Sally. 
“ He is a man — a real man ; everything about him is dif- 
ferent ; he holds up his head in such a proud way. Well, 
he always did that when he was a boy ; but when he speaks, 
he has such a deep voice ! How boys do alter in a year or 
two ! ” 

“ Do you think I have altered much, Sally ? ” said Mara ; 
“ at least, do you think he would think so ? ” 

“ Why, Mara, you and I have been together so much, I 
can’t tell. We don’t notice what goes on before us every 
day. I really should like to see what Moses Pennel will 
think when he sees you. At any rate, he can’t order you 
about with such a grand air as he used to when you were 
younger.” 

“ I think sometimes he has quite forgotten about me,” said 
Mara. 

“ Well, if I were you, I should put him in mind of my- 
self by one or two little ways,” said Sally. “I’d plague 
him and tease him. I ’d lead him such a life that he could 
n’t forget me, — that ’s what I would.” 

“ I don’t doubt you would, Sally ; and he might like you 
all the better for it. But you know that sort of thing is n’t 
my way. People must act in character.” 

“ Do you know, Mara,” said Sally, “ I always thought 
Moses was hateful in his treatment of you ? Now I ’d no 
more marry that fellow than I ’d walk into the fire ; but it 
would be a just punishment for his sins to have to marry 
me ! Would n’t I serve him out, though ! ” 

With which threat of vengeance on her mind Sally Kit- 
tridge fell asleep, while Mara lay awake pondering, — won- 


238 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


dering if Moses would come to-morrow, and what he would 
be like if he did come. 

The next morning, as the two girls were wiping breakfast 
dishes in a room adjoining the kitchen, a step was heard on 
the kitchen-floor, and. the first that Mara knew she found 
.herself lifted from the floor in the arms of a tall dark-eyed 
young man, who was kissing her just as if he had a right to. 
She knew it must be Moses, but it seemed strange as a 
dream, for all she had tried to imagine it beforehand. 

Her kissed her over and over, and then holding her off at 
arm’s length, said, “Why, Mara, you have grown to be a 
beauty ! ” 

“ And what was she, I ’d like to know, when you went 
away, Mr. Moses ? ” said Sally, who could not long keep out 
of a conversation. “ She was handsome when you were 
only a great ugly boy.” 

“ Thank you, Miss Sally ! ” said Moses, making a profound 
bow. 

“ Thank me for what ? ” said Sally, with a toss. 

“ For your intimation that I am a handsome young man 
now,” said Moses, sitting with his arm around Mara, and her 
hand in his. 

And in truth he was as handsome now for a man as he 
was in the promise of his early childhood. 

All the oafishness and surly awkwardness of the half-boy 
period was gone. His great black eyes were clear and con- 
fident : his dark hair clustering in short curls round his well- 
shaped head ; his black lashes, and fine form, and a certain 
confident ease of manner, set him off to the greatest advan- 
tage. 

Mara felt a peculiar dreamy sense of strangeness at this 
brother who was not a brother, — this Moses so different 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


239 


from the one she had known. The very tone of his voice, 
which when he left had the uncertain cracked notes which 
indicate the unformed man, were now mellowed and settled. 

Mara regarded him shyly as he talked, blushed uneasily, 
and drew away from his arm around* her, as if this hand- 
some, self-confident young man were being too familiar. In t 
fact, she made apology to go out into the other room to call 
Mrs. Pennel. 

Moses looked after her as she went with admiration. 

“ What a little woman she has grown ! ” he said, naively. 

“ And what did you expect she would grow ? ” said Sally. 
“ You did n’t expect to find her a girl in short clothes, did 
you ? ” 

“ Not exactly, Miss Sally,” said Moses, turning his atten- 
tion to her ; “ and some other people are changed too.” 

“ Like enough,” said Sally, carelessly. “ I should think 
so, since somebody never spoke a word to one the Sunday 
he was at meeting.” 

“ Oh, you remember that, do you ? On my word, Sal- 
ly 

“ Miss Kittridge, if you please, sir,” said Sally, turning 
round with the air of an empress. 

“ Well, then, Miss Kittridge,” said Moses, making a bow ; 
“ now let me finish my sentence. I never dreamed who you 
were.” 

“ Complimentary,” said Sally, pouting. 

“ Well, hear me through,” said Moses ; “ you had grown 
so handsome, Miss Kittridge.” 

“ Oh ! that indeed ! I suppose you mean to say I was a 
fright when you left ? ” 

“ Not at all — not at all,” said Moses ; “ but handsome 
things may grow handsomer, you know.” 


240 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ I don’t like flattery,” said Sally. 

“ I neper flatter, Miss Kittridge,” said Moses. 

Our young gentleman and young lady of Orr’s Island 
went through with this customary little lie of civilized so- 
ciety with as much gravity as if they were practising in the 
. court of Versailles, — she looking out from the corner of 
her eye to watch the effect of her words, and he laying his 
hand on his heart in the most edifying gravity. They per- 
fectly understood one another. 

But, says the reader, seems to me Sally Kittridge does 
all the talking! So she does, — so she always will, — for it 
is her nature to be bright, noisy, and restless ; and one of 
these girls always overcrows a timid and thoughtful one, 
and makes her, for the time, seem dim and faded, as does 
rose color when put beside scarlet. 

Sally was a born coquette. It was as natural for her to 
want to flirt with every man she saw, as for a kitten to 
scamper after a pin-ball. Does the kitten care a fig for the 
pin-ball, or the dry leaves, which she whisks, and frisks, and 
boxes, and pats, and races round and round after ? No ; it ’s 
nothing but kittenhood ; every hair of her fur is alive with 
it. Her sleepy green eyes, when she pretends to be dozing, 
are full of it ; and though she looks wise a moment, and 
seems resolved to be a discreet young cat, let but a leaf 
sway — off she goes again, with a frisk and a rap. So, 
though Sally had scolded and flounced about Moses’ inat- 
tention to Mara in advance, she contrived even in this first 
interview to keep him talking with nobody but herself; — 
not because she wanted to draw him from Mara, or meant 
to ; not because she cared a pin for him ; but because it 
was her nature as a frisky young cat. 

And Moses let himself be drawn, between bantering and 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


241 


contradicting, and jest and earnest, at some moments almost 
to forget that Mara was in the room. 

She took her sewing and sat with a pleased smile, some- 
times breaking into the lively flow of conversation, or 
eagerly appealed to by both parties to settle some rising 
quarrel. 

Once, as they were talking, Moses looked up and saw 
Mara’s head, as a stray sunbeam falling upon the golden hair 
seemed to make a halo around her face. 

Her large eyes were fixed upon him with an expression 
so intense and penetrative, that he felt a sort of wincing un- 
easiness. 

“ What makes you look at me so, Mara ? ” he said, sud- 
denly. * 

A bright flush came in her cheek as she answered, “I 
did n’t know I was looking. It all seems so strange to me. 
I am trying to make out who and what you are.” 

u It ’s not best to look too deep,” Moses said, laughing, 
but with a slight shade of uneasiness. 

When Sally, late in the afternoon, declared that she must 
go home, she could n’t stay another minute, Moses rose to go 
with her. 

“ What are you getting up for ? ” she said to Moses, as he 
took his hat. 

“ To go home with you, to be sure.” 

“ Nobody asked you to,” said Sally. 

“ I ’m accustomed to asking myself,” said Moses. 

“ Well, I suppose I must have you along,” said Sally. 
“ Father will be glad to see you, of course.” 

“ You ’ll be back to tea, Moses,” said Mara, “ will 
you not? Grandfather will be home, and want to see 
you.” 


11 


242 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Oh, I shall be right back,” said Moses, “ I have a little 
business to settle with Captain Kittridge.” 

But Moses, however, did stay at tea with Mrs. Kittridge, 
who looked graciously at him through the bows of her black 
horn spectacles, having heard her liege lord observe that 
Moses was a smart chap, and had done pretty well in a 
money way. 

How came he to stay ? Sally told him every other min- 
ute to go ; and then when he had got fairly out of the door, 
called him back to tell him that there was something she had 
heard about him. 

And Moses of course came back ; wanted to know what it 
was ; and could n’t be told, it was a secret ; and then he 
would be ordered off, and reminded that he* promised to go 
straight home ; and then when he got a little farther off she 
called after him a second time, to tell him that he would be 
very much surprised if he knew how she found it out, etc., 
etc., — till at last tea being ready, there was no reason why 
he shouldn’t have a cup. And so it was sober moonrise 
before Moses found himself going home. 

“ Hang that girl ! ” he said to himself ; u don’t she know 
what she ’s about, though ? ” 

There our hero was mistaken. Sally never did know 
what she was about, — had no plan or purpose more than a 
blackbird ; and when Moses was gone laughed to think how 
many times she had made him come back. 

“ Now, confound it all,” said Moses, “ I care more for our 
little Mara than a dozen of her ; and what have I been fool- 
ing all this time for ? — now Mara will think I don’t love 
her.” 

And, in fact, our young gentleman rather set his heart on 
the sensation he was going to make when he got home. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


243 


It is flattering, after all, to feel one’s power over a suscep- 
tible nature ; and Moses, remembering how entirely and 
devotedly Mara had loved him all through childhood, never 
doubted but he was the sole possessor of uncounted treasure 
in her heart, which he could develop at his leisure and use 
as he pleased. 

He did not calculate for one force which had grown up in 
the mean while between them, — and that was the power of 
womanhood. He did not know the intensity of that kind 
of pride, which is the very life of the female nature, and 
which is most vivid and vigorous in the most timid and 
retiring. 

Our little Mara was tender, self-devoting, humble, and 
religious, but she was woman after all to the tips of her 
fingers, — quick to feel slights, and determined, with the 
intensest determination, that no man should wrest from her 
one of those few humble rights and privileges, which Nature 
allows to woman. 

Something swelled and trembled in her when she felt the 
confident pressure of that bold arm around her waist, — like 
the instinct of a wild bird to fly. Something in the deep, 
manly voice, the determined, self-confident air, aroused a 
vague feeling of defiance and resistance in her which she 
could scarcely explain to herself. Was he to assume a right 
to her in this way without even asking ? When he did not 
come to tea nor long after, and Mrs. Pennel and her grand- 
father wondered, she laughed, and said gayly, — 

“ Oh, he knows he ’ll have time enough to see me. Sally 
seems more like a stranger.” 

But when Moses came home after moonrise, determined 
to go and console Mara for his absence, he was surprised to 
hear the sound of a rapid and pleasant conversation, in 


244 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

■which a masculine and feminine voice were intermingled in 
a lively duet. 

Corning a little nearer, he saw Mara sitting knitting in 
the door-way, and a very good-looking young man seated on 
a stone at her feet, with his straw hat flung on the ground, 
wdiile he was looking up into her face, as young men often 
do into pretty faces seen by moonlight. Mara rose and in- 
troduced Mr. Adams of Boston to Mr. Moses Penn el. 

Moses measured the young man with his eye as if he 
could have shot him with a good will. And his temper was 
not at all bettered as he observed that he had the easy air of 
a man of fashion and culture, and learned by a few moments 
of the succeeding conversation, that the acquaintance had 
commenced during Mara’s winter visit to Boston. 

“ I was staying a day or two at Mr. Sewell’s,” he said, 
carelessly, “ and the night was so fine I could n’t resist the 
temptation to row over.” 

It was now Moses’ turn to listen to a conversation in 
which he could bear little part, it being about persons and 
places and things unfamiliar to him ; and though he could 
give no earthly reason why the conversation was not the 
most proper in the world, — yet he found that it made him 
angry. 

In the pauses, Mara inquired, prettily, how he found the 
Kittridges, and reproved him playfully for staying, in de- 
spite of his promise to come home. 

Moses answered with an effort to appear easy and playful, 
that there was no reason, it appeared, to hurry on her ac- 
count, since she had been so pleasantly engaged. 

“ That is true,” said Mara, quietly ; “ but then grandpapa 
and grandmamma expected you, and they have gone to bed 
as you know they always do after tea.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 245 

“They’ll keep till morning, I suppose,” said Moses, rather 
gruffly. 

“ Oh yes ; but then as you had been gone two or three 
months, naturally they wanted to see a little of you at 
first.” 

The stranger now joined in the conversation, and began 
talking with Moses about his experiences in foreign parts, 
in a manner which showed a man of sense and breeding. 
Moses had a jealous fear of people of breeding, — an appre- 
hension lest they should look down on one whose life had 
been laid out of the course of their conventional ideas ; and 
therefore, though he had sufficient ability and vigor of mind 
to acquit himself to advantage in this conversation, it gave 
him all the while a secret uneasiness. 

After a few moments, he rose up moodily, and saying that 
he was very much fatigued, he went into the house to retire. 

Mr. Adams rose to go also, and Moses might have felt' in 
a more Christian frame of mind, had he listened to the last 
words of the conversation between him and Mara. 

“ Do you remain long in Harpswell ? ” she asked. 

“ That depends on circumstances,” he replied. “ If I do, 
may I be permitted to visit you ? ” 

“ As a friend — yes,” said Mara ; “ I shall always be 
happy to see you.” 

“ No more ? ” 

“ No more,” replied Mara. 

“ I had hoped,” he said, that you would reconsider.” 

“ It is impossible,” said she ; and soft voices can pro- 
nounce that word, impossible , in a very fateful and decisive 
manner. 

“ Well, God bless you, then, Miss Lincoln,” he said, and 


was gone. 


246 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Mara stood in the door-way and saw him loosen his boat 
from its moorings and float off in the moonlight, with a long 
train of silver sparkles behind. 

A moment after Moses was looking gloomily over her 
shoulder. 

“ Who is that puppy?” he said. 

“ He is not a puppy, but a very fine young man,” said 
Mara. 

“ Well, that very fine young man, then ? ” 

“ I thought I told you. He is a Mr. Adams of Boston, 
and a distant connection of the Sewells’. I met him when 
I was visiting at Judge Sewell’s in Boston.” 

“ You seemed to be having a very pleasant time to- 
gether ? ” 

“We were,” said Mara, quietly. 

“ It ’s a pity I came home as I did. I ’m sorry I inter- 
rupted you,” said Moses, with a sarcastic laugh. 

“ You did n’t interrupt us ; he had been here almost two 
hours.” 

Now Mara saw plainly enough that Moses was displeased 
and hurt, and had it been in the days of her fourteenth sum- 
mer, she would have thrown her arms around his neck, and 
said, “Moses, I don’t care a fig for that man, and I love 
you better than all the world.” But this the young lady of 
seventeen would not do ; so she wished him good-night very 
prettily, and pretended not to see anything about it. 

Mara was as near being a saint as human dust ever is ; 
but — she was a woman saint ; and therefore may be ex- 
cused for a little gentle vindictiveness. She was, in a merci- 
ful way, rather glad that Moses had gone to bed dissatisfied, 
and rather glad that he did not know what she might have 
told him — quite resolved that he should not know at pres- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


247 


ent. Was he to know that she liked nobody so much as 
him ? Not he, unless he loved her more than all the world, 
and said so first. 

Mara was resolved upon that. He might go where he 
liked — flirt with whom he liked — come back as late as he 
pleased — never would she, by word or look, give him reason 
to think she cared. 


248 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

Moses passed rather a restless and uneasy night on his 
return to the home-roof which had sheltered his childhood. 

All his life past, and all his life expected, seemed to boil 
and seethe and ferment in his thoughts, and to go round and 
round in never-ceasing circles before him. 

Moses was par excellence proud, ambitious, and wilful. 
These words, generally supposed to describe positive vices 
of the mind, in fact are only the overaction of certain very 
valuable portions of our nature, since one can conceive all 
three to raise a man immensely in the scale of moral being, 
simply by being applied to right objects. 

He who is too proud even to admit a mean thought — 
who is ambitious only of ideal excellence — who has an in- 
flexible will only in the pursuit of truth and righteousness — 
may be a saint and a hero. 

But Moses was neither a saint nor a hero, but an unde- 
veloped chaotic young man, whose pride made him sensitive 
and restless ; whose ambition was fixed on wealth and worldly 
success ; whose wilfulness was for the most part a blind de- 
termination to compass his own points with the leave of 
Providence or without. 

There was no God in his estimate of life — and a sort of 
secret unsuspected determination at the bottom of his heart 
that there should be none. 

He feared religion, from a suspicion which he entertained 
that it might hamper some of his future. schemes. 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


249 


He did not wish to put himself under its rules, lest he 
might find them in some future time inconveniently strict. 

With such determinations and feelings, the Bible — neces- 
sarily an excessively uninteresting book to him — he never 
read,, and satisfied himself with determining in a general way 
that it was not worth reading, and as was the custom with 
many young men in America, at that period announced him- 
self as a sceptic, and seemed to value himself not a little on 
the distinction. 

Pride in scepticism is a peculiar distinction of young men. 
It takes years and maturity to make the discovery that the 
power of faith is nobler than the power of doubt ; and that 
there is a celestial wisdom in the ingenuous propensity to 
trust , which belongs to honest and noble natures. Elderly 
sceptics generally regard their unbelief as a misfortune. 

Not that Moses was, after all, without “ the angel in him.” 
He had a good deal of the susceptibility to poetic feeling, the 
power of vague and dreamy aspiration, the longing after the 
good and beautiful, which is God’s witness in the soul. A 
noble sentiment in poetry, a fine scene in nature, had power 
to bring tears in his great dark eyes, and he had, under the 
influence of such things, brief inspired moments in which he 
vaguely longed to do, or be, something grand or noble. 

But this, however, was something apart from the real pur- 
pose of his life, — a sort of voice crying in the wilderness, 
— to which he gave little heed. 

Practically, he was determined with all his might, to have 
a good time in this life, whatever another might be, — if 
there were one ; and that he would do it by the strength of 
his right arm. Wealth he saw to be the lamp of Aladdin, 
which commanded all other things. And the pursuit of 
wealth was therefore the first step in his programme. 

11 * 


250 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


As for plans of the heart and domestic life, Moses was 
one of that very common class who had more desire to be 
loved than power of loving. His cravings and dreams were 
not for somebody to be devoted to, but for somebody who 
should be devoted to him. And, like most people who 
possess this characteristic, he mistook it for an affectionate 
disposition. • 

Now the chief treasure of his heart had always been his 
little sister Mara, chiefly from his conviction that he was the 
one ‘absorbing thought and love of her heart. 

He had never figured life to himself otherwise than with 
Mara at his side, his unquestioning, devoted friend. 

Of course he and his plans, his ways and wants, would 
always be in the future, as they always had been, her sole 
thought. 

These sleeping partnerships in the interchange of affec- 
tion, which support one’s heart with a basis of uncounted 
wealth, and leave one free to come and go, and buy and sell 
without exaction or interference, are a convenience certainly, 
and the loss of them in any way is like the sudden breaking 
of a bank in which all one’s deposits are laid. 

It had never occurred to Moses how or in what capacity 
he should always stand banker to the whole wealth of love 
that there was in Mara’s heart, and what provision he should 
make on his part for returning this incalculable debt. 

But the interview of this evening had raised a new 
thought in his mind. Mara, as he saw that day, was no 
longer a little girl in a pink sun-bonnet. She was a woman, 
— a little one, it is true, but every inch a woman, — and a 
woman invested with a singular poetic charm of appearance, 
which, more than beauty, has the power of awakening feel- 
ing in the other sex. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


251 


He felt in himself — in the experience of that one day — - 
that there was something subtle and veiled about her, which 
set the imagination at work ; that the wistful, plaintive ex- 
pression of her dark eyes, and a thousand little shy and 
tremulous movements of her face, affected him more than 
the most brilliant of Sally Kittridge’s sprightly sallies. Yes, 
there would be people falling in love with her fast enough, 
he thought even here, where she is as secluded as a pearl in 
an oyster-shell. It seems means were found to come after 
her, and then all the love of her heart — that priceless love 
— would go to another. 

Mara would be absorbed in some one else, would love 
some one else, as he knew she could, with heart and soul 
and mind and strength. When he thought of this, it affect- 
ed him much as it would if one were turned out of a warm, 
smiling apartment into a bleak December storm. What 
should he do, if that treasure which he had taken most for 
granted in all his valuations of life should suddenly be found 
to belong to another ? Who was this fellow that seemed so 
free to visit her, and what had passed between them ? Was 
Mara in love with him, or going to be ? There is no saying 
how the consideration of this question enhanced in our hero’s 
opinion both her beauty and all her other good qualities. 

Such a brave little heart ! such a good, clear little head ! 
and such a pretty hand and foot ! She was always so cheer- 
ful, so unselfish, so devoted ! When had he ever seen her 
angry, except when she had taken up some childish quarrel 
of his, and fought for him like a little Spartan ? Then she 
was pious, too. She wa3 born religious, thought our hero, 
who, in common with many men professing scepticism for 
their own particular part, set a great value on religion in 
that unknown future person whom they are fond of desig- 


252 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


nating in advance as “my wife.” Yes, Moses meant his 
wife should be pious, and pray for him, while he did as he 
pleased. 

“ Now there ’s that witch of a Sally Kittridge,” he said to 
himself ; “ I would n’t have such a girl for a wife. Nothing 
to her but foam and frisk, — no heart more than a bobo- 
link ! But is n’t she amusing ? By George ! is n’t she, 
though ? ” 

“ But,” thought Moses, “ it ’s time I settled this matter, 
who is to be my wife. I won’t marry till I ’m rich, — that ’s 
flat. My wife is n’t to rub and grub. So at it I must go to 
raise the wind. I wonder if old Sewell really does know 
anything about my parents. Miss Emily would have it that 
there was some mystery that he had the key of ; but I never 
could get anything from him. He always put me off in 
such a smooth way that I could n’t tell whether he did or 
he did n’t. But, now, supposing I have relatives, family 
connections, then who knows but what there may be prop- 
erty coming to me ? That ’s an idea worth looking after, 
surely.” 

There ’s no saying with what vividness ideas and images 
go through one’s wakeful brain when the midnight moon is 
making an exact shadow of your window-sash, with panes 
of light, on your chamber-floor. How vividly we all have 
loved and hated and planned and hoped and feared and 
desired and dreamed, as we tossed and turned to and fro 
upon such watchful, still nights. 

In the stillness, the tide upon one side of the Island re- 
plied to the dash on the other side in unbroken symphony, 
and Moses began to remember all the stories gossips had 
told him of how he had been floated ashore there, like a 
fragment of tropical sea- weed borne landward by a great 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


253 


gale. He positively wondered at himself that he had never 
thought of it more, and the more he meditated, the more 
mysterious and inexplicable he felt. Then he had heard 
Miss Roxy once speaking something about a bracelet, he 
was sure he had ; but afterwards it was hushed up, and no 
one seemed to know anything about it when he inquired. 

But in those days he was a boy, — he was nobody, — now 
he was a young man. He could go to Mr. Sewell, and de- 
mand as his right a fair answer to any questions he might 
ask. If he found, as was quite likely, that there was noth- 
ing to be known, his mind would be thus far settled, — he 
should trust only to his own resources. 

So far as the state of the young man’s finances were con- 
cerned, it would be considered in those simple times and 
regions an auspicious beginning of life. The sum intrusted 
to him by Captain Kittridge had been more than doubled by 
the liberality of Zephaniah Pennel, and Moses had traded 
upon it in foreign parts with a skill and energy that brought 
a very fair return, and gave him, in the eyes of the shrewd, 
thrifty neighbors, the prestige of a young man who was 
marked for success in the world. 

He had already formed an advantageous arrangement 
with Ijis grandfather and Captain Kittridge, by which a 
ship was to be built, which he should command — and thus 
the old Saturday afternoon dream of their childhood be ful- 
filled. 

As he thought of it, there arose in his mind a picture of 
Mara, with her golden hair and plaintive eyes and little 
white hands, reigning as a fairy queen in the captain’s cabin, 
with a sort of wish to carry her off and make sure that no 
one else ever should get her from him. 

But these midnight dreams were all sobered down by the 


254 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


plain matter-of-fact beams of the morning sun, and nothing 
remained of immediate definite purpose except the resolve 
which came strongly upon Moses as he looked across the 
blue band of Harpswell Bay, that he would go that morning 
and have a talk with Mr. Sewell. 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


255 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Miss Roxy Tooth acre was seated by the window of the 
little keeping-room where Miss Emily Sewell sat on every- 
day occasions. Around her were the insignia of her power 
and sway. Her big tailor’s goose was heating between Miss 
Emily’s bright brass fire-irons ; her great pin-cusliion was by 
her side, bristling with pins of all sizes, and with broken 
needles thriftily made into pins by heads of red sealing-wax, 
and with needles threaded with all varieties of cotton, silk, 
and linen ; her scissors hung martially by her side ; her 
black bombazette work-apron was on ; and the expression 
of her iron features was that of deep responsibility, for she 
was making the minister a new Sunday vest ! 

The good soul looks not a day older than when we left 
her, ten years ago. Like the gray, weather-beaten rocks of 
her native shore, her strong features had an unchangeable 
identity beyond that of anything fair and blooming. There 
was of course no chance for a gray streak in her stiff, un- 
compromising mohair frisette, which still pushed up her cap- 
border bristlingly as of old, and the clear, high winds -and 
bracing atmosphere of that rough coast kept her in an ad- 
mirable state of preservation. 

Miss Emily had now and then a white hair among her 
soft, pretty brown ones, and looked a little thinner ; but the 
round, bright spot of bloom on each cheek was there just as 
of yore, — and just as of yore she was thinking of her 


256 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


brother, and filling her little head with endless calculations 
to keep him looking fresh and respectable, and his house- 
keeping comfortable and easy, on very limited means. She 
was now officiously and anxiously attending on Miss Roxy, 
who was in the midst of the responsible operation which 
should conduce greatly to this end. 

“ Does that twist work well ? ” she said, nervously ; “ be- 
cause I believe I ’ve got some other up-stairs in my India 
box.” 

Miss Roxy surveyed the article ; bit a fragment off, as if 
she meant to taste it ; threaded a needle and made a few 
cabalistical stitches ; and then pronounced, ex cathedra , that 
it would do. Miss Emily gave a sigh of relief. After but- 
tons and tapes and linings, and various other items had 
been also discussed, the conversation began to flow into 
general channels. 

“ Did you know Moses Pennel had got home from Um- 
bagog?” said Miss Roxy. 

“ Yes. Captain Kittridge told brother so this morning. I 
wonder he does n’t call over to see us.” 

“ Your brother took a sight of interest in that boy,” said 
Miss Roxy. “ I was saying to Ruey, this morning, that if 
Moses Pennel ever did turn out well, he ought to have a 
large share of the credit.” 

“ Brother always did feel a peculiar interest in him ; it 
was such a strange providence that seemed to cast in his lot 
among us,” said Miss Emily. 

“ As sure as you live, there he is a-coming to the front- 
door,” said Miss Roxy. 

“ Pear me,” said Miss Emily, “ and here I have on this 
old faded chintz. Just so sure as one puts on any old rag, 
and thinks nobody will come, company is sure to call.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


257 


“ Law, I ’m sure I should n’t think of calling him com- 
pany,” said Miss Roxy. 

A rap at the door put an end to this conversation, and 
very soon Miss Emily introduced our hero into the little 
sitting-room, in the midst of a perfect stream of apologies 
relating to her old dress and the littered condition of the 
sitting-room, for Miss Emily held to the doctrine of those 
who consider any sign of human occupation and existence 
in a room as being disorder — however reputable and re- 
spectable be the cause of it. 

“ Well, really,” she said, after she had seated Moses by 
the fire, “ how time does pass, to be sure ; it don’t seem 
more than yesterday since you used to come with your 
Latin books, and now here you are a grown man ! I 
must run and tell Mr. Sewell. He will be so glad to see 
you.” 

Mr. Sewell soon appeared from his study in morning- 
gown and slippers, and seemed heartily responsive to the 
proposition which Moses soon made to him to have some 
private conversation with him in his study. 

“ I declare,” said Miss Emily, as soon as the study-door 
had closed upon her brother and Moses, “ what a handsome 
young man he is ! and what a beautiful way he has with 
him ! — so deferential ! A great many young men nowa- 
days seem to think nothing of their minister ; but he comes 
to seek advice. Very proper. It is n’t every young man 
that appreciates the privilege of having elderly friends. I 
declare, what a beautiful couple he and Mara Lincoln would 
make ! Don’t Provident seem in a peculiar way to have 
designed them for each other?” 

“ I hope not,” said Miss Roxy, with her grimmest expres- 
sion. 


258 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ You don’t ! Why not ? ” 

“ I never liked him,” said Miss Roxy, who had possessed 
herself of her great heavy goose, and was now thumping and 
squeaking it emphatically on the press-board. “ She ’s a 
thousand times too good for Moses Pennel,” — thump. “ I 
never had no faith in him,” — thump. “ He ’s dreffle un- 
stiddy,” — thump. “ He ’s handsome, but he knows it,” — 
thump. “ He won’t never love nobody so much as he does 
himself,” — thump, fortissimo con spirito. 

“ Well, really now, Miss Roxy, you must n’t always re- 
member the sins of his youth. Boys must sow their wild 
oats. He was unsteady for a while, but now everybody 
says he ’s doing well ; and as to his knowing he ’s hand- 
some, and all that, I don’t see as he does. See how polite 
and deferential he was to us all, this morning ; and he spoke 
so handsomely to you.” 

“ I don’t want none of his politeness,” said Miss Roxy, 
inexorably ; “ and as to Mara Lincoln, she might have bet- 
ter than him any day. Miss Badger was a-tellin’ Captain 
Brown Sunday noon that she was very much admired in 
Boston.” 

“ So she was,” said Miss Emily, bridling. “ I never re- 
veal secrets, or I might tell something, — but there has 
been a young man, — but I promised not to speak of it, and 
I sha ? n’t.” 

“ If you mean Mr. Adams,” said Miss Roxy, “ you need n’t 
worry about keepin’ that secret, ’cause that ar was all talked 
over atween meetin’s a Sunday noon ; for Mis* Kittridge she 
used to know his aunt Jerushy, fcer that married Solomon 
Peters, and Mis’ Captain Badger she says that he has a very 
good property, and is a professor in the Old South church in 
Boston.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


259 


‘‘Dear me,” said Miss Emily, “how things do get about!” 

“ People will talk, there a’n’t no use trying to help it,” 
said Miss Roxy ; “ but it ’s strongly borne in on my mind 
that it a’n’t Adams, nor ‘t a’n’t Moses Pennel that ’s to marry 
her. I ’ve had peculiar exercises of mind about that ar child, 
— well I have ; ” and Miss Roxy pulled a large spotted ban- 
danna handkerchief out of her pocket, and blew her nose like 
a trumpet, and then wiped the withered corners of her eyes, 
which were humid as some old Orr’s Island rock wet with 
sea-spray. 

Miss Emily had a secret love of romancing. It was one 
of the recreations of her quiet, monotonous life to build air- 
castles, which she furnished regardless of expense, and in 
which she set up at house-keeping her various friends and 
acquaintances, and she had always been bent on weaving 
a romance on the history of Mara and Moses Pennel. 

The good little body had done her best to second Mr. 
Sewell’s attempts toward the education of the children. It 
was little busy Miss Emily who persuaded honest Zephaniah 
and Mary Pennel that talents such as Mara’s ought to be 
cultivated, and that ended in sending her to Miss Plucher’s 
school in Portland. There her artistic faculties were trained 
into creating funereal monuments out of chenille embroidery, 
fully equal to Miss Emily’s own; also to painting landscapes, 
in which the ground and all the trees were one unvarying 
tint of blue-green ; and also to creating flowers of a new 
and particular construction, which, as Sally Kitt ridge re- 
marked, were pretty, but did not look like anything in 
heaven or earth. Mara had obediently and patiently done 
all these things ; and solaced herself with copying flowers 
and birds and landscapes as near as possible like nature, as 
a recreation from these more dignified toils. 


260 


THE PEARL OF ORE'S ISLAND. 


Miss Emily also had been the means of getting Mara in- 
vited to Boston, where she saw some really polished society, 
and gained as much knowledge of the forms of artificial life 
as a nature so wholly and strongly individual could obtain. 
So little Miss Emily regarded Mara as her godchild, and 
was intent on finishing her up into a romance in real life, 
of which a handsome young man, who had been washed 
ashore in a shipwreck, should be the hero. 

What would she have said could she have heard the 
conversation that was passing in her brother’s study ? 
Little could she dream that the mystery, about which she 
had timidly nibbled for years, was now about to be unrolled ; 
— but it was even so. 

But, upon what she does not see, good reader, you and 
I, following invisibly on tiptoe, will make our observations. 

When Moses was first ushered into Mr. Sewell’s study, 
and found himself quite alone, with the door shut, his heart 
beat so that he fancied the good man must hear it. He 
knew well what he wanted and meant to say, but he found 
in himself all that shrinking and nervous repugnance 
which always attends the proposing of any decisive ques- 
tion. 

“ I thought it proper,” he began, “ that I should call and 
express my sense of obligation to you, sir, for all the kind- 
ness you showed me when a boy. I ’m afraid in those 
thoughtless days I did not seem to appreciate it so much as 
I do now.” 

As Moses said this, the color rose in his cheeks, and his 
fine eyes grew moist with a sort of subdued feeling that 
made his face for the moment more than usually beau- 
tiful. 

Mr. Sewell looked at him with an expression of peculiar 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


261 


interest, which seemed to have something almost of pain in 
it, and answered with a degree of feeling more than he com- 
monly showed, — 

“ It has been a pleasure to me to do anything I could for 
you, my young friend. I only wish it could have been more. 
I congratulate you on your present prospects in life. You 
have perfect health ; you have energy and enterprise ; you 
are courageous and self-reliant, and, I trust, your habits are 
pure and virtuous. It only remains that you add to all 
this that fear of the Lord which is the beginning of wis- 
dom.” 

Moses bowed his head respectfully, and then sat silent a 
moment, as if he were looking through some cloud where he 
vainly tried to discover objects. 

Mr. Sewell continued, gravely, — 

“ You have the greatest reason to bless the kind Provi- 
dence which has cast your lot in such a family, in such a 
community. I have had some means in my youth of com- 
paring other parts of the country with our New England, 
and it is my opinion that a young man could not ask a bet- 
ter introduction into life than the wholesome nurture of a 
Christian family in our favored land.” 

“ Mr. Sewell,” said Moses, raising his head, and suddenly 
looking him straight in the eyes, “ do you know anything of 
my family ? ” 

The question was so point-blank and sudden, that for a 
moment Mr. Sewell made a sort of motion as if he dodged a 
pistol-shot, and then his face assumed an expression of grave 
thoughtfulness, while Moses drew a long breath. It was 
out, — the questiqn had been asked. 

“ My son,” replied Mr. Sewell, “ it has always been my 
intention, when you had arrived at years of discretion, to 


262 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


make you acquainted with all that I know or suspect in 
regard to your life. I trust that when I tell you all I do 
know, you will see that I have acted for the best in the 
matter. It has been my study and my prayer to do so.” 

Mr. Sewell then rose, and unlocking the cabinet, of which 
we have before made mention, in his apartment, drew forth 
a very yellow and time-worn package of papers, which he 
untied. From these he selected one which enveloped an 
old-fashioned miniature case. 

“ I am going to show you,” he said, “ W'hat only you and 
my God know that I possess. I have not looked at it now 
for ten years, but I have no doubt that it is the likeness of 
your mother.” 

Moses took it in his hand, and for a few moments there 
came a mist over his eyes, — he could not see clearly. He 
walked to the window as if needing a clearer light. 

What he saw was a painting of a beautiful young girl, 
with large melancholy eyes, and a clustering abundance of 
black, curly hair. The face was of a beautiful, clear oval, 
with that warm brunette tint in which the Italian painters 
delight. The black eyebrows were strongly and clearly 
defined, and there was in the face an indescribable expres- 
sion of childish innocence and shyness, mingled with a kind 
of confiding frankness, that gave # the picture the charm 
which sometimes fixes itself in faces for which we involun- 
tarily make a history. 

She was represented as simply attired in a white muslin, 
made low in the neck, and the hands and arms were singu- 
larly beautiful. The picture, as Moses looked at it, seemed 
to stand smiling at him with a childish .grace, — a tender, 
ignorant innocence which affected him deeply. 

“ My young friend,”, said Mr. Sewell, “ I have written all 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


263 


that I know of the original of this picture, and the reasons 
I have for thinking her jour mother. 

“ You will find it all in this paper, which, if I had been 
providentially removed, was to have been given you in your 
twenty-first year. You will see in the delicate nature of the 
narrative that it could not properly have been imparted to 
you till you had arrived at years of understanding. I trust 
when you know all that you will be satisfied with the course 
I have pursued. You will read it at your leisure, and after 
reading I shall be happy to see you again.” 

Moses took the package, and after exchanging salutations 
with Mr. Sewell, hastily left the house and sought his boat. 

When one has suddenly come into possession of a letter 
or paper in which is known to be hidden the solution of 
some long-pondered secret, or the decision of fate with 
regard to some long-cherished desire, who has not been 
conscious of a sort of pain, — an unwillingness, at once to 
know what is therein ? 

We turn the letter again and again, we lay it by and 
return to it, and defer’from moment to moment the opening 
of it. So Moses did not sit down in the first retired spot to 
ponder the paper. He put it in the breast pocket of his 
coat, and then, taking up his oars, rowed across the bay. 
He did not land at the house, but passed around the south 
point of the Island, and rowed up the other side to seek a 
solitary retreat in the rocks, which had always been a 
favorite with him in his early days. 

The shores of the Island, as we have said, are a precipi- 
tous wall of rock, whose long, ribbed ledges extend far out 
into the sea. At high tide these ledges are covered with the 
smooth blue sea quite up to the precipitous shore. There 
was a place, however, where the rocky shore shelved over, 


264 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

forming between two ledges a sort of grotto, whose smooth 
floor of shells and many-colored pebbles was never wet by 
the rising tide. It had been the delight of Moses when a 
boy, to come here and watch the gradual rise of the tide till 
the grotto was entirely cut off from all approach, and then to 
look out in a sort of hermit-like security over the open ocean 
that stretched before him. Many an hour he had sat there 
and dreamed of all the possible fortunes that might be found 
for him when he should launch away into that blue smiling 
futurity. 

It was now about half-tide, and Moses left his boat and 
made his way over the ledge of rocks toward his retreat. 
They were all shaggy and slippery with yellow sea-weeds, 
with here and there among them wide crystal pools, where 
purple and lilac and green mosses unfolded their delicate 
threads, and thousands of curious little shell-fish were tran- 
quilly pursuing their quiet life. The rocks where the pel- 
lucid water lay were in some places crusted with barnacles, 
which were opening and shutting the little white scaly doors 
of their tiny houses, and drawing in ‘and out those delicate 
pink plumes which seem to be their nerves of enjoyment. 
Moses and Mara had rambled and played here many hours 
of their childhood, amusing themselves with catching crabs 
and young lobsters and various little fish for these rocky 
aquariums, and then studying at their leisure their various 
ways. Now he had come hither a man, to learn the secret 
of his life. 

Moses stretched himself down on the clean pebbly shore 
of the grotto, and drew forth Mr. Sewell’s letter. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


265 


©j 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Mr. Sewell’s letter ran as follows : — 

My Dear Young Friend, — It has always been my 
intention when you arrived at years of maturity to acquaint 
you with some circumstances which have given me reason 
to conjecture your true parentage, and to let you know what 
steps I have taken to satisfy my own mind in relation to 
these conjectures. 

In order to do this, it will be necessary for me to go back 
to the earlier years of my life, and give you the history of 
some incidents which are known to none of my most intimate 
friends. I trust I may rely on your honor that they will 
ever remain as secrets with you. 

I graduated from Harvard University in . At the 

time I was suffering somewhat from an affection of the 
lungs, which occasioned great alarm to my mother, many of 
whose family had died of consumption. 

In order to allay her uneasiness, and also for the purpose 
of raising funds for the pursuit of my professional studies, I 
accepted a position as tutor in the family of a wealthy gen- 
tleman at St. Augustine, in Florida. 

I cannot do justice to myself, — to the motives which 
actuated me in the events which took place in this family, 
without speaking with the most undisguised freedom of the 
character of all the parties with whom I was connected. 

Don Jose Mendoza was a Spanish gentleman of large 
12 


266 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


property, who had emigrated from the Spanish West Indies 
to Florida, bringing with him an only daughter, who had 
been left an orphan by the death of her mother at a very 
early age. 

He brought to this country a large number of slaves ; — 
and shortly after his arrival, married an American lady : a 
widow with three children. By her he had four other chil- 
dren. And thus it will appear that the family was made up 
of such a variety of elements as only the most judicious care 
could harmonize. 

But the character of the father and mother was such that 
judicious care was a thing not to be expected of either. 

Don Jose was extremely ignorant and proud, and had lived 
a life of the grossest dissipation. Habits of absolute author- 
ity in the midst of a community of a very low moral stand- 
ard, had produced in him all the worst vices of despots. He 
was cruel, overbearing, and dreadfully passionate. His wife 
was a woman who had pretensions to beauty, and at times 
could make herself agreeable, and even fascinating, but 
she was possessed of a temper quite as violent and ungov- 
erned as his own. 

Imagine now two classes of slaves, the one belonging to 
the mistress, and the other brought into the country by the 
master, and each animated by a party spirit and jealousy ; 
— imagine children of different marriages, inheriting from 
their parents violent tempers and stubborn wills, flattered 
and fawned on by slaves, and alternately petted or stormed 
at, now by this parent and now by that, and you will have 
some idea of the task which I undertook in being tutor in 
this family. 

I was young and fearless in those days, as you are now ; 
and the difficulties of the position, instead of exciting appre- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


267 


hension, only awakened the spirit of enterprise and adven- 
ture. 

The whole arrangements of the household, to me fresh 
from the simplicity and order of New England, had a singu- 
lar and wild sort of novelty which was attractive rather than 
otherwise. I was well recommended in the family by an 
influential and wealthy gentleman of Boston, who repre- 
sented my family, as indeed it was, as among the oldest and 
most respectable of Boston, and spoke in such terms of me, 
personally, as I should not have ventured to use in relation 
to myself. When I arrived, I found that two or three tutors, 
who had endeavored to bear well in this tempestuous family, 
had thrown up the command after a short trial, and that the 
parents felt some little apprehension of not being able to 
secure the services of another, — a circumstance which I 
did not fail to improve in making my preliminary arrange- 
ments. I assumed an air of grave hauteur, was very ex- 
acting in all my requisitions and stipulations, and would give 
no promise of doing more than to give the situation a tem- 
porary trial. I put on an air of supreme indifference as to 
my continuance, and acted in fact rather on the assumption 
that I should confer a favor by remaining. 

In this way I succeeded in obtaining at the outset a posi- 
tion of more respect and deference than had been enjoyed 
by any of my predecessors. I had a fine apartment, a ser- 
vant exclusively devoted to me, a horse for riding, and saw 
myself treated among the servants as a person of considera- 
tion and distinction. 

Don Jose and his wife both had in fact a very strong 
desire to retain my services, when after the trial of a week 
or two, it was found that I really could make their discord- 
ant and turbulent children to some extent obedient and studi- 


268 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


ous during certain portions of the day ; and in fact I soon 
acquired in the whole family that ascendency which a well- 
bred person who respects himself, and can keep his temper, 
must have over passionate and undisciplined natures. 

I became the receptacle of the complaints of all, and a sort 
of confidential adviser. Don Jose imparted to me with 
more frankness than good taste his chagrins with regard to 
his wife’s indolence, ill-temper, and bad management, and 
his wife in turn omitted no opportunity to vent complaints 
against her husband for similar reasons. I endeavored, to 
the best of my ability, to act a friendly part by both. It 
never was in my nature to see anything that needed to be 
done without trying to do it, and it was impossible to work 
at all without becoming so interested in my work as to do 
far more than I had agreed to do. I assisted Don Jose 
about many of his affairs ; brought his neglected accounts 
into order ; and suggested from time to time arrangements 
which relieved the difficulties which had been brought on 
by disorder and neglect. In fact, I became, as he said, 
quite a necessary of life to him. 

In regard to the children, I had a more difficult task. 
The children of Don Jose by his present wife had been 
systematically stimulated by the negroes into a chronic habit 
of dislike and jealousy toward her children by a former hus- 
band. On the slightest pretext, they were constantly running 
to their father with complaints ; and as the mother warmly 
espoused the cause of her first children, criminations and re- 
criminations often convulsed the whole family. 

In ill-regulated families in that region, the care of the 
children is from the first in the hands of half-barbarized 
negroes, whose power of moulding and assimilating childish 
minds is peculiar, so that the teacher has to contend con- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


269 


stantly with a savage element in the children which seems 
to have been drawn in with the mother’s milk. 

It is, in a modified way, something the same result as if 
the child had formed its manners in Dahomey or on the coast 
of Guinea. 

In the fierce quarrels which were carried on between the 
children of this family, I had frequent occasion to observe 
this strange, savage element, which sometimes led to expres- 
sions and actions which would seem incredible in civilized 
society. 

The three children by Madame Mendoza’s former husband 
were two girls of sixteen and eighteen and a boy of fourteen. 

The four children of the second marriage consisted of 
three boys and a daughter, — the eldest being not more 
than thirteen. 

The natural capacity of all the children was good, al- 
though, from self-will and indolence, they had grown up in 
a degree of ignorance which could not have been tolerated 
except in a family living an isolated plantation life in the 
midst of barbarized dependents. 

Savage and untaught and passionate as they were, the 
work of teaching them was not without its interest to me. 
A power of control was with me a natural gift ; and then 
that command of temper which is the common attribute of 
well-trained persons in the Northern states, was something 
so singular in this family as to invest its possessor with a 
certain aw T e ; and my calm, energetic voice, and determined 
manner, often acted as a charm on their stormy natures. 

But there was one member of the family of whom I have 
not yet spoken, — and yet all this letter is about her, — the 
daughter of Don Jose by his first marriage. Poor Dolores ! 
poor child \ God grant she may have entered into his rest ! 


270 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


I need not describe her. You have seen her picture. 
And in the wild, rude, discordant family, she always re- 
minded me of the words, “ a lily among thorns.” She was 
in her nature unlike all the rest, and, I may say, unlike any 
one I ever saw. She seemed to live a lonely kind of life in 
this disorderly household, often marked out as the object of 
the spites and petty tyrannies of both parties. She was re- 
garded with bitter hatred and jealousy by Madame Mendoza, 
who was sure to visit her with unsparing bitterness and cru- 
elty after the occasional demonstrations of fondness she re- 
ceived from her father. Her exquisite beauty and the gentle 
softness of her manners, made her such a contrast to her 
sisters as constantly excited their ill-will. Unlike them all, 
she was fastidiously neat in her personal habits, and orderly 
in all the little arrangements of life. 

She seemed to me' in this family to be like some shy, 
beautiful pet creature in the hands of rude, unappreciated 
owners, hunted from quarter to quarter, and finding rest only 
by stealth. Yet she seemed to have no perception of the 
harshness and cruelty with which she was treated. She had 
grown up with it ; it was the habit of her life to study peace- 
able methods of averting or avoiding the various inconven- 
iences and annoyances of her lot, and secure to herself a 
little quiet. 

It not unfrequently happened, amid the cabals and storms 
which shook the family, that one party or the other took up 
and patronized Dolores for a while, more, as it would appear, 
out of hatred for the other than any real love to her. At 
such times it was really affecting to see with what warmth 
the poor child would receive these equivocal demonstra- 
tions of good-will — the nearest approaches to affection 
which she had ever known — and the bitterness with which 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


271 


she would mourn when they were capriciously withdrawn 
again. 

With a heart full of affection, she reminded me of some 
delicate, climbing plant trying vainly to ascend the slippery 
side of an inhospitable wall, and throwing its neglected ten- 
drils around every weed for support. 

Her only fast, unfailing friend was her old negro nurse, or 
Mammy, as the children called her. This old creature, with 
the cunning and subtlety which had grown up from years of 
servitude, watched and waited upon the interests of her little 
mistress, and contrived to carry many points for her in the 
confused household. 

Her young mistress was her one thought and purpose in 
living. She would have gone through fire and water to 
serve her ; and this faithful, devoted heart, blind and igno- 
rant though it were, was the only unfailing refuge and solace 
of the poor hunted child. 

Dolores, of course, became my pupil among the rest. 
Like the others, she had suffered by the neglect and inter- 
ruptions in the education of the family, but she was intel- 
ligent and docile, and learned with a surprising rapidity. It 
was not astonishing that she should soon have formed an 
enthusiastic attachment to me, as I was the only intelligent, 
cultivated person she had ever seen, and treated her with 
unvarying consideration and delicacy. 

The poor thing had been so accustomed to barbarous 
words and manners that simple politeness and the usages 
of good society seemed to her cause for the most bound- 
less gratitude. 

It is due to myself, in view of what follows, to say that I 
w T as from the first aware of the very obvious danger which 
lay in my path in finding myself brought into close and daily 
relations with a young creature so confiding, so attractive, 


272 


THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND. 


and so singularly circumstanced. I knew that it would be 
in the highest degree dishonorable to make the slightest ad- 
vances toward gaining from her that kind of affection which 
might interfere with her happiness in such future relations 
as her father might arrange for her. According to the 
European fashion, I knew that Dolores was in her father’s 
hands, to be disposed of for life according to his pleasure, as 
absolutely as if she had been one of his slaves. I had every 
reason to think that his plans on this subject were matured, 
and only waited for a little more teaching and training on 
my part, and her fuller development in womanhood, to be 
announced to her. 

In looking back over the past, therefore, I have not to 
reproach myself with any dishonest and dishonorable breach 
of trust ; for I was from the first upon my guard, and so 
much so that even the jealousy of my other scholars never 
accused me of partiality. I was not in the habit of giving 
very warm praise, and was in my general management anx- 
ious rather to be just than conciliatory, knowing that with 
the kind of spirits I had to deal with, firmness and justice 
went farther than anything else. If I approved Dolores 
oftener than the rest, it was seen to be because she never 
failed in a duty ; if I spent more time with her lessons, it 
was because her enthusiasm for study led her to learn longer 
ones and study more things ; but I am sure there was never 
a look or a word toward her that went beyond the proprieties 
of my position. 

But yet I could not so well guard my heart. I was young 
and full of feeling. She was beautiful ; and more than that, 
there was something in her Spanish nature at once so warm 
and simple, so artless and yet so unconsciously poetic, that 
her presence was a continual charm. 

How well I remember her now, — all her little ways, — 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


273 


the movements of her pretty little hands, — the expression 
of her changeful face as she recited to me, — the grave, 
rapt earnestness with which she listened to all my instruc- 
tions ! 

I had not been with her many weeks before I felt con- 
scious that it was her presence that charmed the whole house, 
and made the otherwise perplexing and distasteful details of 
my situation agreeable. I had a dim perception that this 
growing passion was a dangerous thing for myself; but was 
it a reason, I asked, why I should relinquish a position in 
which I felt that I was useful, and when I could do for this 
lovely child what no one else could do ? I call her a child, 
— she always impressed me as such, — though she was in e 
her sixteenth year and had the early womanly development 
of Southern climates. She seemed to me like something 
frail and precious, needing to be guarded and cared for ; and 
when reason told me that I risked my own happiness in 
holding my position, love argued on the other hand that I 
was her only friend, and that I should be willing to risk 
something myself for the sake of protecting and shielding 
her. 

For there was no doubt that my presence in the family 
was a restraint upon the passions which formerly vented 
themselves so recklessly on her, and established a sort of 
order in which she found more peace than she had ever 
known before. 

For a long time in our intercourse I was in the habit of 
looking on myself as the only party in danger. It did not 
occur to me that this heart, so beautiful and so lonely, might, 
in the want of all natural and appropriate objects of attach- 
ment, fasten itself on me unsolicited, from the mere neces- 
sity of loving. She seemed to me so much too beautiful, too 
12 * 


274 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


perfect, to belong to a lot in life like mine, that I could not 
suppose it possible this.could occur without the most blame- 
worthy solicitation on my part ; and it is the saddest and 
most affecting proof to me how this poor child had been 
starved for sympathy and love, that she should have repaid 
such cold services as mine with such an entire devotion. At 
first her feelings were expressed openly toward me, with the 
dutiful air of a good child. She placed flowers on my desk 
in the morning, and made quaint little nosegays in the 
Spanish fashion, which she gave me, and busied her leisure 
with various ingenious little knick-knacks of fancy work, 
which she brought me. I treated them all as the offer- 
ings of a child while with her, but I kept them sacredly 
in my own room. To tell the truth, I have some of the 
poor little things now. 

But after a while I could not help seeing how she loved 
me ; and then I felt as if I ought to go ; but how could I ? 
The pain to myself I could have borne; but how could I 
leave her to all the misery of her bleak, ungenial position ? 
She, poor thing, was so unconscious of what I knew, — for 
I was made clear-sighted by love. I tried the more strictly 
to keep to the path I had marked out for myself, but I fear 
I did not always do it ; in fact, many things seemed to con- 
spire to throw us together. The sisters, who were some- 
times invited out to visit on neighboring estates, were glad 
enough to dispense with the presence and attractions of 
Dolores, and so she was frequently left at home to study 
with me in their absence. As to Don Jose, although he 
always treated me with civility, yet he had such an in- 
grained and deep-rooted idea of his own superiority of 
position, that I suppose he would as soon have imagined 
the possibility of his daughter’s falling in love with one of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 275 

his horses. I was a great convenience to him. I had a 
knack of governing and carrying points in his family that 
it had always troubled and fatigued him to endeavor to ar- 
range, — and that was all. So that my intercourse with 
Dolores was as free and unwatched, and gave me as many 
opportunities of enjoying her undisturbed society, as heart 
could desire. 

At last came the crisis, however. After breakfast one 
morning, Don Jose called Dolores into his library and an- 
nounced to her that he had concluded for her a treaty of 
marriage, and expected her husband to arrive in a few days. 
He expected that this news would be received by her with 
the glee with which a young girl hears of a new dress or 
of a ball-ticket, and was quite confounded at the grave and 
mournful silence in which she received it. She said no 
word, made no opposition, but went out from the room and 
shut herself up in her own apartment, and spent the day in 
tears and sobs. 

Don Jose, who had rather a greater regard for Dolores 
than for any creature living, and who had confidently ex- 
pected to give great delight by the news he had imparted, 
was quite confounded by this turn of things. If there had 
been one word of either expostulation or argument, he 
would have blazed and stormed in a fury of passion ; but 
as it was, this broken-hearted submission, though vexatious, 
was perplexing. He sent for me, and opened his mind, 
and begged me to talk with Dolores and show her the ad- 
vantages of the alliance, which the poor foolish child, he 
said, did not seem to comprehend. The man was immensely 
rich, and had a splendid estate in Cuba. It was a most 
desirable thing. 

I ventured to inquire whether his person and manners 


276 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


were such as would be pleasing to a young girl, and could 
gather only that he was a man of about fifty, who had been 
most of his life in the military service, and was now desir- 
ous of making an establishment for the repose of his latter 
days, at the head of which he would place a handsome and 
tractable woman, and do well by her. 

I represented that it would perhaps be safer to say no 
more on the subject until Dolores had seen him, and to this 
he agreed. Madame Mendoza was very zealous in the 
affair, for the sake of getting clear of the presence of Do- 
lores in the family, and her sisters laughed at her for her 
dejected appearance. They only wished, they said, that so 
much luck might happen to them. For myself, I endeav- 
ored to take as little notice as possible of the affair, though 
what I felt may be conjectured. I knew, — I was perfectly 
certain, — that Dolores loved me as I loved her. I knew 
that she had one of those simple and unworldly natures 
which wealth and splendor could not satisfy, and whose life 
would lie entirely in her affections. Sometimes I violently 
debated with myself whether honor required me to sacrifice 
her happiness as well as my own, and I felt the strongest 
temptation to ask her to be my wife and fly with me to the 
Northern States, where I did not doubt my ability to make 
for her a humble and happy home. 

But the sense of honor is often stronger than all reason- 
ing, and I felt that such a course would be the betrayal of 
a trust ; and I determined at least to command myself till I 
should see the character of the man who was destined to be 
her husband. 

Meanwhile the whole manner of Dolores was changed. 
She maintained a stony, gloomy silence, performed all her 
duties in a listless way, and occasionally, when I commented 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


277 


on anything in her lessons or exercises, would break into 
little flashes of petulance, most strange and unnatural in her. 
Sometimes I could feel that she was looking at me earnestly, 
but if I turned my eyes toward her, hers were instantly 
averted ; but there was in her eyes a peculiar expression 
at times, such as I have seen in the eye of a hunted animal 
when it turned at bay, — a sort of desperate resistance, — 
which, taken in connection with her fragile form and lovely 
face, produced a mournful impression. 

One morning I found Dolores sitting alone in the school- 
room, leaning her head on her arms. She had on her wrist 
a bracelet of peculiar workmanship, which she always wore, 

— the bracelet which was afterwards the means of confirm- 
ing her identity. She sat thus some moments in silence, and 
then she raised her head and began turning this bracelet 
round and round upon her arm, while she looked fixedly 
before her. At last she spoke abruptly, and said, — 

“ Did I ever tell you that this was my mother's hair ? It 
is my mother’s hair, — and she was the only one that ever 
loved me ; except poor old Mammy, nobody else loves me, 

— nobody ever will.” 

“ My dear Miss Dolores,” I began. 

“ Don’t call me dear,” she said ; “ you don’t care for me, 

— nobody does, — papa does n’t, and I always loved him ; 
everybody in the house wants to get rid of me, whether I 
like to go or not. I have always tried to be good and do 
all you wanted, and I should think you might care for me 
a little, but you don’t.” 

“ Dolores,” I said, “ 1 do care for you more than I do 
for any one in the world ; I love you more than my own 
soul.” 

These were the very words I never meant to say, but 


278 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


somehow they seemed to utter themselves against my will. 
She looked at me for a moment as if she could not believe 
her hearing, and then the blood flushed her face, and she 
laid her head down on her arms. 

At this moment Madame Mendoza and the other girls 
came into the room in a clamor of admiration about a dia- 
mond bracelet which had just arrived as a present from her 
future husband. 

It was a splendid thing, and had for its clasp his minia- 
ture, surrounded by the largest brilliants. 

The enthusiasm of the party even at this moment could 
not say anything in favor of the beauty of this miniature, 
which, though painted on ivory, gave the impression of a 
coarse-featured man, with a scar across one eye. 

“ No matter for the beauty,” said one of the girls, “ so 
long as it is set with such diamonds.” 

“ Come, Dolores,” said another, giving her the present, 
“ pull off that old hair bracelet, and try this on.” 

Dolores threw the diamond bracelet from her with a 
vehemence so unlike her gentle self as to startle every 
one. 

“ I shall not take off my mother's bracelet for a gift from 
a man I never knew,” she said. “ I hate diamonds. I 
wish those who like such things might have them.” 

“.Was ever anything so odd?” said Madame Mendoza. 

“ Dolores always was odd,” said another of the girls ; 
“nobody ever could tell what she would like.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


279 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

The next day Senor Don Guzman de Cardona ar- 
rived, and the whole house was in a commotion of excite- 
ment. There was to be no school, and everything was 
bustle and confusion. I passed my time in my own room 
in reflecting severely upon myself for the imprudent words 
by which I had thrown one more difficulty in the way of 
this poor harassed child. 

Dolores this day seemed perfectly passive in the hands of 
her mother and sisters, who appeared disposed to show her 
great attention. She allowed them to array her in her most 
becoming dress, and made no objection to anything except 
removing the bracelet from her arm. “Nobody’s gifts 
should take the place of her mother’s,” she said, and they 
were obliged to be content with her wearing of the diamond 
bracelet on the other arm. 

Don Guzman was a large, plethoric man, with coarse 
features and heavy gait. Besides the scar I have spoken 
of, his face was adorned here and there with pimples, which 
were not set down in the miniature. 

In the course of the first hour’s study, I saw him to be a 
man of much the same stamp as Dolores’s father — sensual, 
tyrannical, passionate. He seemed in his own way to be 
much struck with the beauty of his intended wife, and was 
not wanting in efforts to please her. All that I could see 
in her was the settled, passive paleness of despair. She 


280 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


played, sang, exhibited her embroidery and painting, at the 
command of Madame Mendoza, with the air of an automa- 
ton ; and t)on Guzman remarked to her father on the pas- 
sive obedience as a proper and hopeful trait. Once only, 
when he, in presenting her a flower, took the liberty of kiss- 
ing her cheek, did I observe the flashing of her eye and 
a movement of disgust and impatience, that she seemed 
scarcely able to restrain. 

The marriage was announced to take place the next week, 
and a holiday was declared through the house. Nothing was 
talked of or discussed but the corbeille de manage which the 
bridegroom had brought — the dresses, laces, sets of jewels, 
and cashmere shawls. Dolores never had been treated 
with such attention by the family in her life. She rose im- 
measurably in the eyes of all as the future possessor of such 
wealth and such an establishment as awaited her. Madame 
Mendoza had visions of future visits in Cuba rising before 
her mind, and overwhelmed her daughter-in-law with flat- 
teries and caresses, which she received in the same passive 
silence as she did everything else. 

For my own part, I tried to keep entirely by myself. I 
remained in my room reading, and took my daily rides, ac- 
companied by my servant — seeing Dolores only at meal- 
times, when I scarcely ventured to look at her. One night, 
however, as I was walking through a lonely part of the 
garden, Dolores suddenly stepped out from the shrubbery 
and stood before me. It was bright moonlight, by which her 
face and person were distinctly shown. How well I remem- 
ber her as she looked then ! She was dressed in white 
muslin, as she was fond of being, but it had been torn and 
disordered by the haste with which she had come through 
the shrubbery. Her face was fearfully pale, and her great 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


281 


dark eyes had an unnatural brightness. She laid hold on 
my arm. # 

“ Look here,” she said, “ I saw you and came down to 
speak with you.” 

She panted and trembled, so that for some moments she 
could not speak another word. “ I want to ask you,” she 
gasped, after a pause, “ whether I heard you right? Did 
you say ” — 

“ Yes, Dolores, you did. I did say what I had no right 
to say, like a dishonorable man.” 

“ But is it true ? Are you sure it is true ? ” she said, 
scarcely seeming to hear my words. 

“ God knows it is,” said I despairingly. 

“ Then why don’t you save me ? Why do you let them 
sell me to this dreadful man ? He don’t love me — he 
never will. Can’t you take me away ? ” 

“ Dolores, I am a poor man. I cannot give you any of 
these splendors your father desires for you.” 

“ Do you think I care for them ? I love you more than 
all the world together. And if you do really love me, why 
should we not be happy with each other ? ” 

“ Dolores,” I said, with a last effort to keep calm, “ I am 
much older than you, and know the world, and ought not to 
take advantage of your simplicity. You have been so ac- 
customed to abundant wealth and all it can give, that you 
cannot form an idea of what the hardships and discomforts 
of marrying a poor man would be. You are unused to hav- 
ing the least care, or making the least exertion for yourself. 
All the world would say that I acted a very dishonorable 
part to take you from a position whieh offers you wealth, 
splendor, and ease, to one of comparative hardship. Per- 
haps some day you would think so yourself.” 


282 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


While I was speaking, Dolores turned me toward the 
moonlight, and fixed her great dark eyes piercingly upon 
me, as if she wanted to read my soul. “ Is that all ? ” she 
said ; “ is that the only reason ? ” 

“ I do not understand you,” said I. 

She gave me such a desolate look, and answered in a tone 
of utter dejection, “ Oh, I did n’t know, but perhaps you 
might not want me. All the rest are so glad to sell me to 
anybody that will take me. But you really do love me, 
don’t you ? ” she added, laying her hand on mine. 

What answer I made I cannot say. I only know that 
every vestige of what is called reason and common sense 
left me at that moment, and. that there followed an hour of 
delirium in which I — we both were very happy — we for- 
got everything but each other, and we arranged all our 
plans for flight. There was fortunately a ship lying in the 
harbor of St. Augustine, the captain of which was known 
to me. In course of a day or two passage was taken, and 
my effects transported on board. Nobody seemed to suspect 
us. Everything went on quietly up to the day before that 
appointed for sailing. I took my usual rides, and did 
everything as much as possible in my ordinary way, to dis- 
arm suspicion, and none seemed to exist. The needed prepa- 
rations went gayly forward. On the day I mentioned, when I 
had ridden some distance from the house, a messenger came 
post-haste after me. It was a boy who belonged specially to 
Dolores. He gave me a little hurried note. I copy it : — 

“ Papa has found all out, and it is dreadful. No one else 
knows, and he means to kill you when you come back. Do, 
if you love me, hurry and get on board the ship. I shall 
never get over it, if evil comes on you for my sake. I shall 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


283 


let them do what they please with me, if God will only save 
you . I will try to be good. Perhaps if I bear my trials 
well, he will let me die soon. That is all I ask. I love 
you, and always shall, to death and after. Dolores.” 

There was the end of it all. I escaped on the ship. I 
read the marriage in the paper. Incidentally I afterwards 
heard of her as living in Cuba, but I never saw her again 
till I saw her in her coffin. Sorrow and death had changed 
her so much that at first the sight of her awakened only a 
vague, painful remembrance. The sight of the hair bracelet 
which I had seen on her arm brought all back, and I felt 
sure that my poor Dolores had strangely come to sleep her 
last sleep near me. 

Immediately after I became satisfied who you were, I felt 
a painful degree of responsibility for the knowledge. I 
wrote at once to a friend of mine in the neighborhood of St. 
Augustine, to find out any particulars of the Mendoza family. 
I learned that its history had been like that of many others 
in that region. Don Jose had died in a bilious fever, 
brought on by excessive dissipation, and at his death the 
estate was found to be so incumbered that the whole was 
sold at auction. The slaves were scattered hither and 
thither to different owners, and Madame Mendoza, with 
her children and remains of fortune, had gone to live in 
New Orleans. 

Of Dolores he had heard but once since her marriage. A 
friend had visited Don Guzman’s estates in Cuba. He was 
living in great splendor, but bore the character of a hard, 
cruel, tyrannical master, and an overbearing man. His 
wife was spoken of as being in very delicate health, — avoid- 
ing society and devoting herself to religion. 


284 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


I would here take occasion to say that it was understood 
when I went into the family of Don Jose, that I should not 
in any way interfere with the religious faith of the children, 
the family being understood to belong to the Roman Cath- 
olic Church. There was so little like religion of any kind 
in the family, that the idea of their belonging to any faith 
savored something of the ludicrous. In the case of poor 
Dolores, however, it was different. The earnestness of her 
nature would always have made any religious form a reality 
to her. In her case I was glad to remember that the Rom- 
ish Church, amid many corruptions, preserves all the es- 
sential beliefs necessary for our salvation, and that many 
holy souls have gone to heaven through its doors. I there- 
fore was only careful to direct her principal attention to the 
more spiritual parts of her own faith, and to dwell on the 
great themes which all Christian people hold in common. 

Many of my persuasion would not have felt free to do 
this, but my liberty of conscience in this respect was perfect. 
I have seen that if you break the cup out of which a soul 
has been used to take the wine of the gospel, you often 
spill the very wine itself. And after all, these forms are 
but shadows of which the substance is Christ. 

I am free to say, therefore, that the thought that your 
poor mother was devoting herself earnestly to religion, al- 
though after the forms of a church with which I differ, was 
to me a source of great consolation, because I knew that in 
that way alone could a soul like hers find peace. 

I have never rested from my efforts to obtain more infor- 
mation. A short time before the incident which cast you 
upon our shore, I conversed with a sea-captain who had 
returned from Cuba. He stated that there had been an 
attempt at insurrection among the slaves of Don Guzman, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 285 

in which a large part of the buildings and out-houses of the 
estate had been consumed by fire. 

On subsequent inquiry I learned that Don Guzman had 
sold his estates and embarked for Boston with his wife and 
family, and that nothing had subsequently been heard of 
him. 

Thus, my young friend, I have told you all that 1 know 
of those singular circumstances which have cast your lot on 
our shores. I do not expect that at your time of life you 
will take the same view of this event that I do. You may 
possibly — very probably will — consider it a loss not to 
have been brought up as you might have been in the splen- 
did establishment of Don Guzman, and found yourself heir 
to wealth and pleasure without labor or exertion. Yet I am 
quite sure in that case that your value as a human being 
would have been immeasurably less. I think I have seen 
in you the elements of passions, which luxury and idleness 
and the too early possession of irresponsible power, might 
have developed with fatal results. You have simply to 
reflect whether you would rather be an energetic, intelligent, 
self-controlled man, capable of guiding the affairs of life and 
of acquiring its prizes, — or to be the reverse of all this, 
with its prizes bought for you by the wealth of parents. 

I hope mature reflection will teach you to regard with 
gratitude that disposition of the All- Wise, which cast your 
lot as it has been cast. 

Let me ask one thing in closing. I have written for you 
here many things most painful for me to remember, because 
I wanted you to love and honor the memory of your mother. 
I wanted that her memory should have something such a 
charm for you as it has for me. With me, her image has 
always stood between me and all other women ; but I have 


286 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


never even intimated to a living being that such a passage 
in my history ever occurred, — no, not even to my sister, 
who is nearer to me than any other earthly creature. 

In some respects I am a singular person in my habits, 
and having once written this, you will pardon me if I ob- 
serve that it will never be agreeable to me to have the 
subject named between us. Look upon me always as a 
friend, who would regard nothing as a hardship by which 
he might serve the son of one so dear. 

I have hesitated whether I ought to add one circumstance 
more. I think I will do so, trusting to your good sense not 
to give it any undue weight. 

I have never ceased making inquiries in Cuba, as I found 
opportunity, in regard to your fathers property, and late 
investigations have led me to the conclusion that he left a 
considerable sum of money in the hands of a notary, whose 
address I have, which, if your identity could be proved, 
w r ould come in course of law to you. I have written an 
account of all the circumstances which, in my view, identify 
you as the son of Don Guzman de Cardona, and had them 
properly attested in legal form. 

This, together with your mother’s picture and the bracelet, 
I recommend you to take on your next voyage, and to see 
what may result from the attempt. How considerable the 
sum may be which will result from this, I cannot say, but as 
Don Guzman’s fortune was very large, I am in hopes it may 
prove something worth attention. 

At any time you may wish to call, I will have all these 
things ready for you. 

I am, with warm regard, 

Your sincere friend, 

Theophilus Sewell. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


287 


When Moses had finished reading this letter, he laid it 
down on the pebbles beside him, and, leaning back against a 
rock, looked moodily out to sea. The tide had washed quite 
up to within a short distance of his feet, completely isolating 
the little grotto where he sat from all the surrounding 
scenery, and before him, passing and repassing on the blue 
bright solitude of the sea, were silent ships, going on their 
wondrous pathless ways to unknown lands. The letter had 
stirred all within him that was dreamy and poetic : he felt 
somehow like a leaf torn from a romance, and blown 
strangely into the hollow of those rocks. Something too of 
ambition and pride stirred within him. He had been born 
an heir of wealth and power, little as they had done for the 
happiness of his poor mother ; and when he thought he 
might have had these two wild horses which have run away 
with so many young men, he felt, as young men all do, an 
impetuous desire for their possession, and he thought as so 
many do, “ Give them to me, and I ’ll risk my character, — 
I ’ll risk my happiness.” 

The letter opened a future before him which "was some- 
thing to speculate upon, even though his reason told him it 
w r as uncertain, and he lay there dreamily piling one air- 
castle on another, — unsubstantial as the great islands of 
white cloud that sailed though the sky and dropped their 
shadows in the blue sea. 

It was late in the afternoon when he bethought him he 
must return home, and so climbing from rock to rock he 
swung himself upward on to the island, and sought the 
brown cottage. 

As he passed by the open window he caught a glimpse of 
Mara sewing. He walked softly up to look in without her 
seeing him. She was sitting with the various articles of his 


288 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


wardrobe around her, quietly and deftly mending his linen, 
singing soft snatches of an old psalm-tune. 

She seemed to have resumed quite naturally that quiet 
care of him and his, which she had in all the earlier years 
of their life. He noticed again her little hands, — they 
seemed a sort of wonder to him. Why had he never seen, 
when a boy, how pretty they were ? And she had such 
dainty little ways of taking up and putting down things as 
she measured and clipped ; it seemed so pleasant to have her 
handling his things ; it was as if a good fairy were touching 
them, whose touch brought back peace. But then, he thought, 
by and by she will do all this for some one else. The 
thought made him angry. He really felt abused in antici- 
pation. She was doing all this for him just in sisterly kind- 
ness, and likely as not thinking of somebody else whom she 
loved better all the time. It is astonishing how cool and 
dignified this consideration made our hero as he faced up to 
the window. He was, after all, in hopes she might blush, 
and look agitated at seeing him suddenly ; but she did not. 
The foolish boy did not know the quick wits of a girl, and 
that all the while that he had supposed himself so sly, and 
been holding his breath to observe, Mara had been perfectly 
cognizant of his presence, and had been schooling herself 
to look as unconscious and natural as possible. So she 
did, — only saying, — 

“ Oh, Moses, is that you ? Where have you been all 
day?” 

“ Oh, I went over to see Parson Sewell, and get my pas- 
toral lecture, you know.” 

“ And did you stay to dinner ? ” 

“ No ; I came home and went rambling round the rocks, 
and got into our old cave, and never knew how the time 
passed.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


289 


“ Why, then you ’ve had no dinner, poor boy,” said Mara, 
rising suddenly. “ Come in quick, you must be fed or you ’ll 
get dangerous and eat somebody.” 

“ No, no, don’t get anything,” said Moses, “ it ’s almost 
supper-time, and I ’m not hungry.” 

And Moses threw himself into a chair, and began ab- 
stractedly snipping a piece .of tape with Mara’s very best 
scissors. 

“ If you please, sir, don’t demolish that ; I was going to 
stay one of your collars with it,” said Mara. 

“ Oh, hang it, I ’m always in mischief among girls’ 
things,” said Moses, putting down the scissors and picking 
up a bit of white wax, which with equal unconsciousness, 
he began kneading in his hands, while he was dreaming 
over the strange contents of the morning’s letter. 

“ I hope Mr. Sewell did n’t say anything to make you 
look so very gloomy,” said Mara. 

“ Mr. Sewell ? ” said Moses, starting ; “ no, he did n’t ; 
in fact, I had a pleasant call there ; and there was that con- 
founded old sphinx of a Miss Roxy there. Why don’t she 
die ? She must be somewhere near a hundred years old by 
this time.” 

“ Never thought to ask her why she did n’t die,” said 
Mara ; “ but I presume she has the best of reasons for 
living.” 

“ Yes, that ’s so,” said Moses ; “ every old toadstool, and 
burdock, and mullein lives and thrives and lasts ; no danger 
of their dying.” 

“You seem to be in a charitable frame of mind,” said 
Mara. 

« Confound it all ! I hate this world. If I could have my 
own w ray now, — if I could have just what I wanted, and 
13 


290 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

do just as I please exactly, I might make a pretty good 
thing of if.” 

“ And pray what would you have ? ” said Mara. 

“Well, in the first place, riches.” 

“ In the first place ? ” 

“ Yes, in the first place, I say ; for money buys everything 
else.” 

“Well, supposing so,” said Mara, “for argument’s sake, 
what would you buy with it ? ” 

« Position in society, respect, consideration, — and I ’d 
have a splendid place, with everything elegant. I have 
ideas enough, only give me the means. And then I ’d have 
a wife, of course.” 

“ And how much would you pay for her ? ” said Mara, 
looking quite cool. 

“ I ’d buy her with all the rest, — a girl that would n’t 
look at me as I am, — would take me for all the rest, you 
know, — that’s the way of the world.” 

“It is, is it?” said Mara. “I don’t understand such 
matters much.” 

“ Yes ; it ’s the way with all you girls,” said Moses ; “ it ’s 
the way you ’ll marry when you do.” 

“ Don’t be so fierce about it. I have n’t done it yet,” 
said Mara ; “ but now, really, I must go and set the supper- 
table when I have put these things away,” — and Mara 
gathered an armful of things together, and tripped singing 
up-stairs, and arranged them in the drawer of Moses’ room. 
“ Will his wife like to do all these little things for him as I 
do?” she thought. “It’s natural I should. I grew up 
with him, and love him, just as if he were my own brother, 
— he is all the brother I ever had. I love him more than 
anything else in the world, and this wife he talks about 
could do no more.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 291 

“ She don’t care a pin about me,” thought Moses ; “ it ’s 
only a habit she has got, and her strict notions of duty, 
that ’s all. She is housewifely in her instincts, and seizes 
all neglected linen and garments as her lawful prey, — she 
would do it just the same for her grandfather ; ” and Moses 
drummed moodily on the window-pane. 


292 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The timbers of the ship which was to carry the fortunes 
of our hero were laid by the side of Middle Bay, and 
all these romantic shores could hardly present a lovelier 
scene. 

This beautiful sheet of water separates Ilarpswell from 
a portion of Brunswick. Its shores are rocky and pine- 
crowned, and display the most picturesque variety of out- 
line. Eagle Island, Shelter Island, and one or two smaller 
ones, lie on the glassy surface like soft clouds of green 
foliage pierced through by the steel-blue tops of arrowy 
pine-trees. 

There were a goodly number of shareholders in the pro- 
jected vessel ; some among the most substantial men in the 
vicinity. Zephaniah Pennel had invested there quite a solid 
sum, as had also our friend Captain Kittridge. Moses had 
placed therein the proceeds of his recent voyage, which 
enabled him to buy a certain number of shares, and he 
secretly revolved in his mind whether the sum of money 
left by his father might not enable him to buy the whole 
ship. Then a few prosperous voyages, and his fortune was 
made ! 

He went into the business of building the new vessel with 
all the enthusiasm with which he used when a boy to plan 
ships and mould anchors. Every day he was off at early 
dawn in his working-clothes, and labored steadily among the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


293 


men till evening. No matter how early he rose, however, 
he always found that a good fairy had been before him and 
prepared his dinner, daintily sometimes adding thereto a fra- 
grant little bunch of flowers. But when his boat returned 
home at evening, he no longer saw her as in the days of 
girlhood waiting far out on the farthest point of rock for 
his return. Not that she did not watch for it and run out 
many times toward sunset ; but the moment she had made 
out that it was surely he, she would run back into the house, 
and very likely find an errand in her own room, where she 
would be so deeply engaged that it. would be necessary for 
him to call her down before she could make her appearance. 
Then she came smiling, .chatty, always gracious, and ready 
to go or to come as he requested, — the very cheerfulest 
of household fairies, — but yet for all that there was a cob- 
web invisible barrier around her that for some reason or 
other he could not break over. It vexed and perplexed 
him, and day after day he determined to whistle it down, — 
ride over it rough-shod, — and be as free as he chose with 
this apparently soft, unresistant, airy being, who seemed so 
accessible. Why should n’t he kiss her when he chose, and 
sit with his arm around her waist, and draw her familiarly 
upon his keee, — this little child-woman, who was as a sister 
to him ? Why, to be sure ? Had she ever frowned or 
scolded as Sally Kittridge did when he attempted to pass 
the air-line that divides man from womanhood ? Not at all. 
She had neither blushed nor laughed, nor ran away. If he 
kissed her, she took it with the most matter-of-fact compo- 
sure ; if he passed his arm around her, she let it remain 
with unmoved calmness ; and so somehow he did these 
things less and less, and wondered why. 

The fact is, our hero had begun an experiment with his 


294 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


little friend that we would never advise a young man to 
try on one of these intense, quiet, soft-seeming women, 
whose whole life is inward. He had determined to find out 
whether she loved him before he committed himself to her ; 
and the strength of a whole book of martyrs is in women 
to endure and to bear without flinching before they will 
surrender the gate of this citadel of silence. Moreover, 
our hero had begun his siege with precisely the worst 

V 

weapons. 

For on the night that he returned and found Mara con- 
versing with a stranger, the suspicion arose in his mind 
that somehow Mara might be particularly interested in 
him, — and instead of asking hex , which anybody might 
consider the most feasible step in the case, he asked Sally 
Kittridge. 

Sally’s inborn, inherent love of teasing was up in a 
moment. 

Did she know anything of that Mr. Adams ? Of course 
she did, — a young lawyer of one of the best Boston fam- 
ilies, — a splendid fellow, — she wished any such luck might 
happen to her ! Was Mara engaged to him ? — What would 
he give to know ? — Why did n’t he ask Mara ? — Did he 
expect her to reveal her friend’s secrets ? Well, she 
should n’t, — report said Mr. Adams was well to do in the 
world, and had expectations from an uncle, — and did n’t 
Moses think he was interesting in conversation ? Every- 
body said what a conquest it was for an Orr’s Island girl, 
etc., etc. And Sally said the rest with many a malicious 
toss and wink and sly twinkle of the dimples of her cheek, 
which might mean more or less as a young man of imag- 
inative temperament was disposed to view it. Now this 
was all done in pure, simple love of teasing. We incline 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


295 


to think phrenologists have as yet been very incomplete in 
their classification of faculties, or they would have ap- 
pointed a separate organ for this propensity of human na- 
ture. Certain persons, often the most kind-hearted in the 
world, and who would not give pain in any serious matter, 
seem to have an insatiable appetite for those small annoy- 
ances we commonly denominate teasing, — and Sally was 
one of this number. 

She diverted herself infinitely in playing upon the excit- 
ability of Moses, — in awaking his curiosity, and baffling 
it, and tormenting him with a whole phantasmagoria of 
suggestions and assertions, which played along so near the 
line of probability, that one could never tell which might be 
fancy and which might be fact. 

Moses therefore pursued the line of tactics for such cases 
made and provided, and strove to awaken jealousy in Mara 
by paying marked and violent attentions to Sally. He went 
there evening after evening, leaving Mara to sit alone at 
home. He made secrets with her, and alluded to them be- 
fore Mara. He proposed calling his new vessel the Sally 
Kittridge ; but whether all these things made Mara jealous 
or not, he could never determine. Mara had no peculiar 
gift for acting, except in this one point ; but here all the 
vitality of nature rallied to her support, and enabled her 
to preserve an air of the most unperceiving serenity. If 
she shed any tears when she spent a long, lonesome even- 
ing, she was quite particular to be looking in a very placid 
frame when Moses returned, and to give such an account 
of the books, or the work, or paintings which had interested 
her, that Moses was sure to be vexed. Never were her 
inquiries for Sally more cordial, — never did she seem in- 
spired by a more ardent affection for her. 


296 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Whatever may have been the result of this state of 
things in regard to Mara, it is certain that Moses succeeded 
in convincing the common fame of that district that he and 
Sally were destined for each other, and the thing was reg- 
ularly discussed at quilting frolics and tea-drinkings around, 
much to Miss Emily’s disgust and Aunt Roxy’s grave sat- 
isfaction, who declared that “ Mara was altogether too good 
for Moses Fennel, but Sally Kittridge would make him 
stand round,” — by which expression she was understood 
to intimate that Sally had in her the rudiments of the same 
kind of domestic discipline which had operated so favorably 
in the case of Captain Kittridge. 

These things, of course, had come to Mara’s ears. She 
had overheard the discussions on Sunday noons as the peo- 
ple between meetings sat over their doughnuts and cheese, 
and analyzed their neighbors’ affairs, and she seemed to 
smile at them all. Sally only laughed, and declared that 
it was no such thing ; that she would no more marry Moses 
Pennel or any other fellow than she would put her head 
into the fire. What did she want of any of them ? She 
knew too much to get married, — that she did. She was 
going to have her liberty for one while yet to come, etc., 
etc. ; but all these assertions were of course supposed to 
mean nothing but the usual declarations in such cases. 
Mara among the rest thought it quite likely that this thing 
was yet to be. 

So she struggled and tried to reason down a pain which 
constantly ached in her heart when she thought of this. 
She ought to have foreseen that it must some time end in 
this way. Of course she must have known that Moses 
would some time choose a wife ; and how fortunate that, 
instead of a stranger, he had chosen her most intimate 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


297 


friend. Sally was careless and thoughtless, to be sure, but 
she had a good generous heart at the bottom, and she hoped 
she would love Moses at least as well as she did, and then 
she would always live with them, and think of any little 
things that Sally might forget. 

After all, Sally was so much more capable and efficient a 
person than herself, — so much more bustling and energetic, 
she would make altogether a better house-keeper, and doubt- 
less a better wife for Moses. 

But then it was so hard that he did not tell her about 
it. Was she not his sister ? — his confidant for all his 
childhood ? — and why should he shut up his heart from 
her now ? But then she must guard herself from being 
jealous, — that would be mean and wicked. So Mara, in 
her zeal of self-discipline, pushed on matters ; invited Sally 
to tea to meet Moses ; and when she came, left them alone 
together while she busied herself in hospitable cares. She 
sent Moses with errands and commissions to Sally, which 
he was sure to improve into protracted visits ; and in short, 
no young match-maker ever showed more good-will to for- 
ward the union of two chosen friends than Mara showed to 
unite Moses and Sally. * 

So the flirtation went on all summer, like a ship under 
full sail, with prosperous breezes ; and Mara, in the many 
hours that her two best friends were together, . tried heroi- 
cally to persuade herself that she was not unhappy. She 
said to herself constantly that she never had loved Moses 
other than as a brother, and repeated and dwelt upon the 
fact to her own mind with a pertinacity which might have 
led her to suspect the reality of the fact, had she had ex- 
perience enough to look closer. True, it was rather lonely, 
6he said, but that she was used to, — she always had been 
13 * 


298 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

and always should be. Nobody would ever love her in 
return as she loved ; which sentence she did not analyze 
very closely, or she might have remembered Mr. Adams 
and one or two others, who had professed more for her 
than she had found herself able to return. That general 
proposition about nobody is commonly found, if sifted to 
the bottom, to have specific relation to somebody whose name 
never appears in the record. 

Nobody could have conjectured from Mara’s calm, gen- 
tle cheerfulness of demeanor, that any sorrow lay at the 
bottom of her heart ; she would not have owned it to 
herself. 

There are griefs which grow with years, which have no 
marked beginnings, — no especial dates ; they are not events, 
but slow perceptions of disappointment, which bear down on 
the heart with a constant and equable pressure like the 
weight of the atmosphere, and these things are never named 
or counted in words among life’s sorrows ; yet through them, 
as through an unsuspected inward wound, life, energy, and 
vigor, slowly bleed away, and the persons, never owning 
even to themselves the weight of the pressure, — standing, 
to all appearance, fair and cheerful, are still undermined with 
a secret wear of this inner current, and ready to fall with the 
first external pressure, 

There are persons often brought into near contact by the 
relations of life, and bound to each other by a love so 
close, that they are perfectly indispensable to each other, 
who yet act upon each other as a file upon a diamond, by a 
slow and gradual friction, the pain of which is so equable, 
so constantly diffused through life, as scarcely ever at any 
time to force itself upon the mind as a reality. 

Such had been the history of the affection of Mara for 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


299 


Moses. It had been a deep, inward, concentrated passion 
that had almost absorbed self-consciousness, and made her 
keenly alive to all the moody, restless, passionate changes 
of his nature ; it had brought with it that craving for sym- 
pathy and return which such love ever will, and yet it was 
fixed upon a nature so different and so uncomprehending 
that the action had for years been one of pain more than 
pleasure. Even now, when she had him at home with her 
and busied herself with constant cares for him, there was 
a sort of disturbing, unquiet element in the history of every 
day. The longing for him to come home at night, — the wish 
that he would stay with her, — the uncertainty whether he 
would or would not go and spend the evening with Sally, — 
the musing during the day over all that he had done and 
said the day before, were a constant interior excitement. 
For Moses, besides being in his moods quite variable and 
changeable, had also a good deal of the dramatic element 
in him, and put on sundry appearances in the way of ex- 
periment. 

He would feign to have quarrelled with Sally, that he 
might detect whether Mara would betray some gladness ; 
but she only evinced concern and a desire to make up the 
difficulty. He would discuss her character and her fitness 
to make a man happy in matrimony in the style that young 
gentlemen use who think their happiness a point of great 
consequence in the creation ; and Mara, always cool, and 
firm, and sensible, would talk with him in the most maternal 
style possible, and caution him against trifling with her af- 
fections. Then again he would be lavish in his praise of 
Sally’s beauty, vivacity, and energy, and Mara would join 
with the most apparently unaffected delight. Sometimes he 
ventured, on the other side, to rally her on some future 


300 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


husband, and predict the days when all the attentions which 
she was daily bestowing on him would be for another ; and 
here, as everywhere else, he found his little Sphinx per- 
fectly inscrutable. Instinct teaches the grass-bird, who hides 
her eggs under long meadow grass, to creep timidly yards 
from the nest, and then fly up boldly in the wrong place ; 
and a like instinct teaches shy girls all kinds of unconscious 
stratagems when the one secret of their life is approached. 
They may be as truthful in all other things as the strictest 
Puritan, but here they deceive by an infallible necessity. 
And meanwhile where was Sally Kittridge in all this mat- 
ter ? Was her heart in the least touched by the black eyes 
and long lashes? Who can say? Had she a heart? Well, 
Sally was a good girl. When one got sufficiently far down 
through the foam and froth of the surface, to find what was 
in the depths of her nature, there was abundance there of 
good womanly feeling, generous and strong, if one could but 
get at it. 

She was the best and brightest of daughters to the old 
Captain, whose accounts she kept, whose clothes she mended, 
whose dinner she often dressed and carried to him, from lov- 
ing choice ; and Mrs. Kittridge regarded her housewifely 
accomplishments with pride, though she never spoke to her 
otherwise than in words of criticism and rebuke, as in her 
view an honest mother should who means to keep a flourish- 
ing sprig of a daughter within limits of a proper humility. 

But as for any sentiment or love toward any person of the 
other sex, Sally, as yet, had it not. Her numerous admirers 
were only so many subjects for the exercise of her dear de- 
light of teasing, and Moses Pennel, the last and most con- 
siderable, differed from the rest only in the fact that he was 
a match for her in this redoubtable art and science, and this 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


301 


made the game she was playing with him altogether more 
stimulating than that she had carried on with any other of 
her admirers. For Moses could sulk and storm for effect, 
and clear off as bright as Harps well Bay after a thunder- 
storm — for effect also. Moses could play jealous, and 
make believe all those thousand-and-one shadowy nothings 
that coquettes, male and female, get up to carry their points 
with ; and so their quarrels and their makings-up were as 
-manifold as the sea-breezes that ruffled the ocean before the 
Captain’s door. 

There is but one danger in play of this kind, and that is, 
that deep down in the breast of every slippery, frothy, elfish 
Undine sleeps the germ of an unawakened soul, which sud- 
denly, in the course of some such trafficking with the out- 
ward shows and seemings of affection, may wake up and 
make of the teasing, tricksy elf a sad and earnest woman — 
a creature of loves and self-denials and faithfulness unto 
death — in short, something altogether too good, too sacred 
to be trifled with ; and when a man enters the game pro- 
tected by a previous attachment which absorbs all his nature, 
and the woman awakes in all her depth and strength to feel 
the real meaning of love and life, she finds that she has 
played with one stronger than she, at a terrible disad- 
vantage. 

Is this mine lying dark and evil under the saucy little 
feet of our Sally ? Well, we should not of course be sur- 
prised some day to find it so. 


302 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

October is come, and among the black glooms of the 
pine forests flare out the scarlet branches of the rock -maple, 
and the beech-groves are all arrayed in gold, through which 
the sunlight streams in subdued richness. October is come 
with long, bright, hazy days, swathing in purple mists the 
rainbow brightness of the forests, and blending the otherwise 
gaudy and flaunting colors into wondrous harmonies of 
splendor. And Moses Pennel’s ship is all built and ready, 
waiting only a favorable day for her launching. 

And just at this moment Moses is sauntering home from 
Captain Kittridge’s in company with Sally, for Mara has 
sent him to bring her to tea with them. Moses is in high 
spirits ; everything has succeeded to his wishes ; and as the 
two walk along the high, bold, rocky shore, his eye glances 
out to the open ocean, where the sun is setting, and the 
fresh wind blowing, and the white sails flying, and already 
fancies himself a sea-king, commanding his own palace, and 
going from land to land. 

“ There has n’t been a more beautiful ship built here these 
twenty years,” he says, in triumph. 

“ Oho, Mr. Conceit,” said Sally, “ that ’s only because it ’s 
yours now — your geese are all swans. I wish you could 
have seen the Typhoon, that Ben Drummond sailed in — a 
real handsome fellow he was. What a pity there ar’ n’t 
more like him ! ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


303 


u I don’t enter on the merits of Ben Drummond’s beauty,” 
said Moses; “but I don’t believe the Typhoon was one 
whit superior to our ship. Besides, Miss Sally, I thought 
you were going to take it under your especial patronage, and 
let me honor it with your name.” 

“How absurd you always will be talking about that — 
why don’t you call it after Mara ? ” 

“ After Mara ? ” said Moses. “ I don’t want to — it 
wouldn’t be # appropriate — one wants a different kind of 
girl to name a ship after — something bold and bright 
and dashing ! ” 

“ Thank you, sir, but I prefer not to have my bold and 
dashing qualities immortalized in this way,” said Sally ; 
“ besides, sir, how do I know that you would n’t run me on a 
rock the very first thing ? When I give my name to a ship, 
it must have an experienced commander,” she added, mali- 
ciously, for she knew that Moses was specially vulnerable 
on this point. 

“ As you please,” said Moses, with heightened color. 
“ Allow me to remark that he who shall ever undertake to 
» command the ‘ Sally Kittridge ’ will have need of all his 
experience — and then, perhaps, not be able to know the 
ways of the craft.” 

“ See him now,” said Sally, with a malicious laugh; “ we 
are getting wrathy, are we ? ” 

“ Not I,” said Moses ; “ it would cost altogether too much 
exertion to get angry at every teasing thing you choose to 
say, Miss Sally. By and by I shall be gone, and then won’t 
your conscience trouble you ? ” 

“ My conscience is all easy, so far as you are concerned, 
sir ; your self-esteem is too deep-rooted to suffer much from 
my poor little nips — they produce no more impression than 


304 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


a cat-bird pecking at the cones of that spruce-tree yonder. 
Now don’t you put your hand where your heart is supposed 
to be — there ’s nobody at home there, you know. There ’s 
Mara coining to meet us ; ” and Sally bounded forward to 
meet Mara with all those demonstrations of extreme delight 
which young girls are fond of showering on each other. 

44 It ’s such a beautiful evening,” said Mara, 44 and we are 
all in such good spirits about Moses’ ship, and I told him you 
must come down and hold counsel with us as to what was to 
be done about the launching — and the name, you know, 
that is to be decided on — are you going to let it be called 
after you ? ” 

“ Not I, indeed. I should always be reading in the papers 
of horrible accidents that had happened to the 4 Sally Kit- 
tridge.’ ” 

“ Sally has so set her heart on my being unlucky,” said 
Moses, “ that I believe if I make a prosperous voyage, the 
disappointment would injure her health.” 

“ She does n’t mean what she says,” said Mara ; 44 but I 
think there are some objections in a young lady’s name 
being given to a ship.” 

“ Then I suppose, Mara,” said Moses, “ that you would 
not have yours either ? ” 

44 1 would be glad to accommodate you in anything but 
that,” said Mara, quietly ; but she added, 44 Why need the 
ship be named for anybody ? A ship is such a beautiful, 
graceful thing, it should have a fancy name.” 

44 Well, suggest one,” said Moses. 

44 Don’t you remember,” said Mara, 44 one Saturday after- 
noon, when you and Sally and I launched your little ship 
down in the cove after you had come home from your first 
voyage at the Banks.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


305 


u I do,” said Sally. “We called that the Ariel, Mara, 
after that old torn play you were so fond of. That ’s a 
pretty name for a ship.” 

“ Why not take that ? ” said Mara. 

“ I bow to the decree,” said Moses. “ The Ariel it shall 
be.” 

“ Yes ; and you remember,” said Sally, “ Mr. Moses here 
promised at that time that he would build a ship, and take 
us two round the world with him.” 

Moses’ eyes fell upon Mara as Sally said these words 
with a sort of sudden earnestness of expression which struck 
her. He was really .feeling very much about something, 
under all the bantering disguise of his demeanor, she said 
to herself. Could it be that he felt unhappy about his pros- 
pects with Sally ? That careless liveliness of hers might 
wound him perhaps now, when he felt that he was soon to 
leave her. 

Mara was conscious herself of a deep undercurrent of 
sadness as the time approached for the ship to sail that 
should carry Moses from her, and she could not but think 
some such feeling must possess her mind. In vain she 
looked into Sally’s great Spanish eyes for any signs of a 
lurking softness or tenderness concealed under her sparkling 
vivacity. Sally’s eyes were admirable windows of exactly 
the right size and color for an earnest, tender spirit to look 
out of, but just now there was nobody at the casement but a 
slippery elf peering out in tricksy defiance. 

Wher the three arrived at the house, tea was waiting on 
the table for them. Mara fancied that Moses looked sad 
and preoccupied as they sat down to the tea-table, which 
Mrs. Pennel had set forth festively, with the best china and 
the finest table-cloth and the choicest sweetmeats. In fact, 


306 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Moses did feel that sort of tumult and upheaving of the soul 
which a young man experiences when the great crisis comes 
whieh is to plunge him into the struggles of manhood. It is 
a time when he wants sympathy and is grated upon by un- 
comprehending merriment, and therefore his answers to 
Sally grew brief and even harsh at times, and Mara some- 
times perceived him looking at herself with a singular fixed- 
ness of expression, though he withdrew his eyes whenever 
she turned hers to look on him. Like many another little 
woman, she had fixed a theory about her friends, into which 
she was steadily interweaving all the facts she saw. Sally 
must love Moses, because she had known her from child- 
hood as a good and affectionate girl, and it was impossible 
that she could have been going on with Moses as she had 
for the last six months without loving him. She must evi- 
dently have seen that he cared for her ; and in how many 
ways had she shown that she liked his ’society and him ! 
But then evidently she did not understand him, and Mara 
felt a little womanly self-pluming on the thought that she 
knew him so much better. She was resolved that she would 
talk with Sally about it, and show her that she was disap- 
pointing Moses and hurting his feelings. Yes, she said to 
herself, Sally has a kind heart, and her coquettish desire to 
conceal from him the extent of her affection ought now 
to give way to the outspoken tenderness of real love. 

So Mara pressed Sally with the old-times request to stay 
and sleep with her; for these two, the only young girls in so 
lonely a neighborhood, had no means of excitement or dissi- 
pation beyond this occasional sleeping together — by which 
is meant, of course, lying awake all night talking. 

When they were alone together in their chamber, Sally 
let down her long black hair, and stood with her back 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


307 


to Mara brushing it. Mara sat looking out of the win- 
dow, where the moon was making a wide sheet of silver- 
sparkling water. Everything was so quiet that the restless 
dash of the tide could be plainly heard. Sally was rattling 
away with her usual gayety. 

“ And so the launching is to come off next Thursday. 
What shall you wear ? ” 

“ 1 ’m sure I have n’t thought,” said Mara. 

“ Well, I shall try and finish my blue merino for the oc- 
casion. What fun it will be ! I never was on a ship when 
it was launched, and I think it will be something perfectly 
splendid ! ” 

“ But does n’t it sometimes seem sad to think that after all 
this Moses will leave us to be gone so long ? ” 

“ What do I care ? ” said Sally, tossing back her long 
hair as she brushed it, and then stopping to examine one 
of her eyelashes. 

“ Sally dear, you often speak in that way,” said Mara, 
“ but really and seriously, you do yourself great injustice. 
You could not certainly have been going on as you have 
these six months past with a man you did not care for.” 

“ Well, I do care for him, ‘ sort o’,’ ” said Sally ; “ but is 
that any reason I should break my heart for his going? 
— that ’s too much for any man.” 

“But, Sally, you must know that Moses loves you.” 

“ I ’m not so sure,” said Sally, freakishly tossing her head 
and laughing. 

“ If he did not,” said Mara, “ why has he sought you so 
much, and taken every opportunity to be with you ? I ’m 
sure I’ve.*been left here alone hour after hour, when my 
only comfort was that it was because my two best friends 
loved each other, as I know they must some time love some 
one better than they do me.” 


308 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


The most practised self-control must fail some time, and 
Mara's voice faltered on these last words, and she put her 
hands over her eyes. Sally turned quickly and looked at 
her, then giving her hair a sudden fold round her shoulders, 
and running to her friend, she kneeled down on the floor by 
her, and put her arms round her waist, and looked up into 
her face with an air of more gravity than she commonly 
used. 

“ Now, Mara, what a wicked, inconsistent fool I have 
been ! Did you feel lonesome ? — did you care ? I ought 
to have seen that ; but I 'm selfish, I love admiration, and I 
love to have some one to flatter me, and run after me ; and 
so I 've been going on and on in this silly way. But I 
did n't know you cared — indeed, I did n’t — you are such 
a deep little thing. Nobody can ever tell what you feel. I 
never shall forgive myself, if you have been lonesome, for 
you are worth five hundred times as much as I am. You 
really do love Moses. I don’t.” 

“ I do love him as a dear brother,” said Mara. 

u Dear fiddlestick,” said Sally. “ Love is love ; and when 
a person loves all she can, it is n’t much use to talk so. I ’ve 
been a wicked sinner, that I have. Love ? Do you sup- 
pose 1 would bear with Moses Pennel all his ins and outs 
and up and downs, and be always putting him before myself 
in everything, as you do? No, I couldn’t; I haven’t it in 
me ; but you have. He ’s a sinner, too, and deserves to get 
me for a wife. But, Mara, I have tormented him well — 
there 's some comfort in that.” 

“ It ’s no comfort to me,” said Mara. “ I see his heart is 
set on you — the happiness of his life depends on you — 
and that he is pained and hurt when you give him only cold, 
trifling words when he needs real true love. It is a serious 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


309 


thing, dear, to have a strong man set his whole heart on you. 
It will do him a great good or a great evil, and you ought not 
to make light of it.” 

u Oh, pshaw r , Mara, you don’t know these fellows ; they 
are only playing games with us. If they once catch us, 
they have no mercy ; and for one here ’s a child that is n’t 
going to be caught. I can see plain enough that Moses 
Pennel has been trying to get me in love with him, but 
he does n’t love me. No, he does n’t,” said Sally, reflec- 
tively. “ He only wants to make a conquest of me, and 
I ’m just the same. I want to make a conquest of him, — 
at least I have been wanting to, — but now I see it’s a false, 
wicked kind of way to do as we ’ve been doing.” 

“ And is it really possible, Sally, that you don’t love 
him?” said Mara, her large, serious eyes looking into 
Sally’s. “ What ! be with him so much, — seem to like 
him so much, — look at him as I have seen you do, — and 
not love him ! ” 

“ I can’t help my eyes ; they will look so,” said Sally, 
hiding her face in Mara’s lap with a sort of coquettish 
consciousness. “ I tell you I ’ve been silly and wicked ; 
but he ’s just the same exactly.” 

“ And you have worn his ring all summer ? ” 

“ Yes, and he has worn mine ; and I have a lock of his 
hair, and he has a lock of mine ; yet I don’t believe lie cares 
for them a bit. Oh, his heart is safe enough. If he has 
any, it is n’t with me : that I know.” 

i But if you found it were, Sally? Suppose you found 
that, after all, you were the one love and hope of his life; 
that all he was doing and thinking was for you ; that he was 
laboring, and toiling, and leaving home, so that he might 
some day offer # you a heart and home, and be your best 


310 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


friend for life ? Perhaps he dares not tell you how he 
really does feel.” 

“ It ’s no such thing ! it ’s no such thing ! ” said Sally, lift- 
ing up her head, with her eyes full of tears, which she dashed 
angrily away. “ What am I crying for ? I hate him. I ’m 
glad he ’s going away. Lately it has been such a trouble to 
me to have things go on so. I ’m really getting to dislike 
him. You are the one he ought to love. Perhaps all this 
time you are the one he does love,” said Sally, with a sudden 
energy, as if a new thought had daw r ned in her mind. 

“ Oh, no ; he does not even love me as he once did, when 
we w r ere children,” said Mara. “ He is so shut up in him- 
self, so reserved, I know nothing about what passes in his 
heart.” 

“ No more does anybody,” said Sally. “ Moses Pennel 
is n’t one that says and does things straightforward be- 
cause he .feels so; but he says and does them to see what 
you will do. That ’s his way. Nobody knows why he has 
been going on with me as he has. He has had his own rea- 
sons, doubtless, as I have had mine.” 

“ He has admired you very much, Sally,” said Mara, 
“ and praised you to me very w r armly. He thinks you 
are so handsome. I could tell you ever so many things 
he has said about you. He knows as I do that you are a 
more enterprising, practical sort of body than I am, too. 
Everybody thinks you are engaged. I have heard it spoken 
of everywhere.” 

“ Everybody is mistaken, then, as usual,” said Sally. 
“Perhaps Aunt Roxy was in the right of it when she 
said that Moses would never be in love with anybody 
but himself.” 

“Aunt Roxy has always been prejudiced and unjust to 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


311 


Moses,” said Mara, her cheeks flushing. “ She never liked 
him from a child, and she never can be made to see anything 
good in him. I know that he has a deep heart, — a nature 
that craves affection and sympathy ; and it is only because 
he is so sensitive that he is so reserved and conceals his 
feelings so much. He has a noble, kind heart, and I believe 
he truly loves you, Sally ; it must be so.” 

Sally rose. from the floor and went on arranging her hair, 
without speaking. Something seemed to disturb her mind. 
She bit her lip, and threw down the brush and comb violent- 
ly. In the clear depths of the little square of looking-glass 
a face looked into hers, whose eyes were perturbed as if with 
the shadows of some coming inward storm : the black brows 
were knit, and the lips quivered. She drew a long breath 
and burst out into a loud laugh. 

“ What are you laughing at now ? ” said Mara, who stood 
in her white night-dress by the window, with her hair falling 
in golden waves about her face. 

“ Oh, because these fellows are so funny,” said Sally ; 
“ it ’s such fun to see their actions. Come now,” she added, 
turning to Mara, “ don’t look so grave and sanctified. It ’s 
better to laugh than cry about things, any time. It ’s a great 
deal better to be made hard-hearted like me, and not care 
for anybody, than to be like you, for instance. The idea 
of any one’s being in love is the drollest thing to me. I 
haven’t the least idea how it feels. I wonder if I ever 
shall be in love ! ” 

“ It will come to you in its time, Sally.” 

“ Oh yes, — I suppose like the chicken-pox or the whoop- 
ing cough,” said Sally ; “ one of the things to be gone 
through with, and rather disagreeable while it lasts, — so 
I hope to put it off as long as possible.” 


312 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Well, come,” said Mara, “ we must not sit up all night.” 

After the two girls were nestled into bed and the light out, 
instead of the brisk chatter there fell a great silence between 
them. 

The full round moon cast the reflection of the window on 
the white bed, and the ever restless moan of the sea became 
more audible in the fixed stillness. The two faces, both 
young and fair, yet so different in their expression, lay each 
still on its pillow, — their wide-open eyes gleaming out in the 
shadow like mystical gems. Each was breathing softly, as 
if afraid of disturbing the other. At last Sally gave an im- 
patient movement. 

“ How lonesome the sea sounds in the tiight,” she said. 
“ I wish it would ever be still.” 

“ I like to hear it,” said Mara. “ When I was in Boston, 
for a while I thought I could not sleep, I used to miss it so 
much.” 

There was another silence, which lasted so long that each 
girl thought the other asleep, and moved softly, but at a 
restless movement from Sally, Mara spoke again. 

“ Sally, — you asleep ? ” 

“ No, — I thought you were.” 

“ I wanted to ask you,” said Mara, “ did Moses ever say 
anything to you about me? — you know I told you how 
much he said about you.” 

“ Yes ; he asked me once if you were engaged to Mr. 
Adams.” 

“ And what did you tell him?” said Mara, with increasing 
interest. 

“ Well, I only plagued him. I sometimes made him think 
you were, and sometimes that you were not ; and then again, 
that there was a deep mystery in hand. But I praised 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


313 


and glorified Mr. Adams, and told him what a splendid 
match it would be, and put on any little bits of embroidery 
here and there that I could lay hands on. I used to make 
him sulky and gloomy for a whole evening sometimes. In 
that way it was one of the best weapons I had.” 

“ Sally, what does make you love to tease people so ? ” 
said Mara. 

“ Why, you know the hymn says, — 

‘ Let dogs delight to bark and bite, 

For God bath made them so; 

Let bears and lions growl and fight, 

For ’t is their nature too.’ 

That ’s all the account I can give of it.” 

“ But,” said Mara, “ I never can rest easy a moment 
when I see I am making a person uncomfortable.” 

“Well, I don’t tease anybody but the men. I don’t tease 
father or mother or you, — but men are fair game ; they 
are such thumby, blundering creatures, and we can confuse 
them so.” 

“ Take care, Sally, it ’s playing with edge tools ; you may 
lose your heart some day in this kind of game.” 

“ Never you fear,” said Sally ; “ but ar’ n’t you sleepy ? — 
let ’s go to sleep.” 

Both girls turned their faces resolutely in opposite direc- 
tions, and remained for an hour with their large eyes look- 
ing out into the moonlit chamber, liked the fixed stars over 
Ilarpswell Bay. At last sleep drew softly down the fringy 
curtains. 


14 


314 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

In the plain, simple regions we are describing, — where 
the sea is the great avenue of active life, and the pine-forests 
are the great source of wealth, — ship-building is an engross- 
ing interest, and there is no fete that calls forth the com- 
munity like the launching of a vessel. 

And no wonder ; for what is there belonging to this work- 
a-day world of ours that has such a never-failing fund of 
poetry and grace as a ship ? A ship is a beauty and a mys- 
tery wherever we see it : its white wings touch the regions 
of the unknown and the imaginative ; they seem to us full 
of the odors of quaint, strange, foreign shores, where life, 
we fondly dream, moves in brighter currents than the 
muddy, tranquil tides of every day. 

Who that sees one bound outward, with her white breasts 
swelling and heaving, as if with a reaching expectancy, 
does not feel his own heart swell with a longing impulse to 
go with her to the far-off shores ? Even at dingy, crowded 
wharves, amid the stir and tumult of great cities, the coming 
in of a ship is an event that never can lose its interest. But 
on these romantic shores of Maine, where all is so wild and 
still, and the blue sea lies embraced in the arms of dark, sol- 
itary forests, the sudden incoming of a ship from a distant 
voyage is a sort of romance. Who that has stood by the 
blue waters of Middle Bay, engirdled as it is by soft slopes 
of green farming land, interchanged here and there with 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


315 


heavy billows of forest-trees, or rocky, pine-crowned prom- 
ontories, has not felt that sense of seclusion and solitude 
which is so delightful ? And then what a wonder ! There 
comes a ship from China, drifting in like a white cloud, — 
the gallant creature ! how the waters hiss and foam before 
her ; with what a great free, generous plash she throws 
out her anchors, as if she said a cheerful “ Well done ! ” to 
some glorious work accomplished ! The very life and spirit 
of strange romantic lands come with her ; suggestions of 
sandal-wood and spice breathe through the pine-woods ; she 
is an oriental queen, with hands full of mystical gifts ; “ all 
her garments smell of myrrh and cassia, out of the ivory 
palaces, whereby they have made her glad.” No wonder * 
men have loved ships like birds, and that there have been 
found brave, rough hearts that in fatal wrecks chose rather 
to go down with their ocean love than to leave her in the 
last throes of her death-agony. 

A ship-building, a ship-sailing community has an uncon- 
scious poetry ever underlying its existence. Exotic ideas 
from foreign lands relieve the trite monotony of life ; the 
ship-owner lives in communion with the whole world, and is 
less likely to fall into the petty commonplaces that infest the 
routine of inland life. 

Never arose a clearer or lovelier October morning than 
that which was to start the Ariel on her watery pilgrimage. 

Moses had risen while the stars were yet twinkling over 
their own images in Middle Bay, to go down and see that 
everything was right ; and in all the houses that we know in 
the vicinity, everybody woke with the one thought of being 
ready to go to the launching. 

Mrs. Pennel and Mara were also up by starlight, busy 
over the provisions for the ample cold collation that was to 


316 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


be spread in a barn adjoining the scene, — the materials 
for which they were packing into baskets covered with nice 
clean linen cloths, ready for the little sail-boat which lay 
within a stone’s throw of the door in the brightening dawn, 
her white sails looking rosy in the advancing light. 

It had been agreed that the Pennels and the Kittridges 
should cross together in this boat with their contributions of 
good cheer. 

The Kittridges, too, had been astir with the dawn, intent 
on their quota of the festive preparations, in which Dame 
Kittridge’s housewifely reputation was involved, — for it had 
been a disputed point in the neighborhood whether she or 
Mrs. Pennel made the best doughnuts ; and of course, with 
this fact before her mind, her efforts in this line had been all 
but superhuman. 

The Captain skipped in and out in high feather, — occa- 
sionally pinching Sally’s cheek, and asking if she were going 
as captain or mate upon the vessel after it was launched, for 
which he got in return a fillip of his sleeve or a sly twitch 
of his coat-tails, for Sally and her old father were on romp- 
ing terms with each other from early childhood, — a thing 
which drew frequent lectures from the always exhorting 
Mrs. Kittridge. 

“ Such levity ! ” she said, as she saw Sally in full chase 
after his retreating figure, in order to be revenged for 
some sly allusions he had whispered in her ear. 

“ Sally Kittridge ! Sally Kittridge ! ” she called, “ come 
back this minute. What are you about? I should think 
your father was old enough to know better.” 

“ Lawful sakes, Polly, it kind o’ renews one’s youth to get 
a new ship done,” said the Captain, skipping in at another 
door. “ Sort o’ puts me in mind o’ that I went out cap’en in 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


317 


when I was jist beginning to court you, as somebody else is 
courtin’ our Sally here.” 

“ Now, father,” said Sally, threateningly, “ what did I tell 
you ? 

“ It ’s really lemancholy ,” said the Captain, “ to think how 
it does distress gals to talk to ’em ’bout the fellers, wh<m 
they a’n’t thinkin’ o’ nothin’ else all the time. They can’t 
even laugh without sayin’ he-he-he ! ” 

“ Now, father, you know I ’ve told you five hundred times 
that I don’t care a cent for Moses Pennel, — that he ’s a 
hateful creature,” said Sally, looking very red and deter- 
mined. 

“ Yes, yes,” said the Captain, “ I take that ar ’s tlfe reason 
you ’ve ben a-wearin’ the ring he gin you and them rib- 
bins you ’ve got on your neck this blessed minute, and why 
you ’ve giggled off to singin’-school, and Lord knows where 
with him all summer, — that ar ’s clear now.” 

“ But, father,” said Sally, getting redder and more earnest, 
“ I don't care for him really , and I ’ve told him so. I keep 
telling him so, and he will run after me.” 

“ Haw ! haw ! ” laughed the Captain ; “ he will, will he ? 
Jist so, Sally ; that ar ’s jist the way your ma there talked 
to me, and it kind o’ ’couraged me along. I knew that gals 
always has to be read back’ard jist like the writin’ in the 
Barbary States.” 

“ Captain Kittridge, will you stop such ridiculous talk ? ” 
said his helpmeet; “and jist carry this ’ere basket of cold 
chicken down to the landin’ agin the Pennels come round in 
the boat ; and you must step spry, for there ’s two more 
baskets a-comin’.” 

The Captain shouldered the basket and walked toward 
the sea with it, and Sally retired to her own little room 


318 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


to hold a farewell consultation with her mirror before she 
went. 

You will perhaps think from the conversation that you 
heard the other night, that Sally now will cease all thought 
of coquettish allurement in her acquaintance with Moses, 
and cause him to see by an immediate and marked change 
her entire indifference. Probably, as she stands thought- 
fully before her mirror, she is meditating on the propriety 
of laying aside the ribbons he gave her — perhaps she will 
alter that arrangement of her hair which is one that he him- 
self particularly dictated as most becoming to the character 
of her face. She opens a little drawer, which looks like a 
flower-garden, all full of little knots of pink and blue and 
red, and various fancies of the toilet, and looks into it re- 
flectively. She looses the ribbon from her hair and chooses 
another, — but Moses gave her that too and said, she re- 
members, that when she wore that “ he should know she had 
been thinking of him.” Sally is Sally yet — as full of sly 
dashes of coquetry as a tulip is of streaks. 

“ There ’s no reason I should make myself look like a 
fright because I don’t care for him,” she says ; “ besides, 
after all that he has said, he ought to say more, — he ought 
at least to give me a chance to say no, — he shall, too,” said 
the gypsy, winking at the bright, elfish face in the glass. 

“ Sally Kittridge, Sally Kittridge,” called her mother, 
“ how long will you stay prinkin’ ? — come down this minute.” 

“ Law now, mother,” said the Captain, “ gals must prink 
afore such times; it’s as natural as for hens to dress their 
feathers afore a thunder-storm.” 

Sally at last appeared, all in a flutter of ribbons and 
scarfs, whose bright, high colors assorted well with the ultra- 
marine blue of her dress, and the vivid pomegranate hue of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


319 


her cheeks. The boat with its white sails flapping was bal- 
ancing and courtesying up and down on the waters, and in 
the stern sat Mara ; — her shining white straw hat trimmed 
with blue ribbons set off her golden hair and pink shell 
complexion. The dark, even pencilling of her eyebrows, 
and the beauty of the brow above, the brown translucent 
clearness of her thoughtful eyes, made her face striking even 
with its extreme delicacy of tone. She was unusually ani- 
mated and excited, and her cheeks had a rich bloom of that 
pure deep rose-color which flushes up in fair complexions 
under excitement, and her eyes had a kind of intense ex- 
pression, for which they had always been remarkable. All 
the deep secluded yearning of repressed nature was looking 
out of them, giving that pathos which every one has felt at 
times in the silence of eyes. 

“ Now r bless that ar gal,” said the Captain, when he saw 
her. “ Our Sally here ’s handsome, but she ’s got the real 
New-J(^usalem look, she has — like them in the Revelations 
that wears the fine linen, clean and white.” 

“ Bless you, Captain Kittridge ! don’t be a-makin’ a fool 
of yourself about no girl at your time o’ life,” said Mrs. 
Kittridge, speaking under her breath in a nipping, energetic 
tone, for they were coming too near the boat to speak very 
loud. 

“ Good-mornin’, Mis’ Pennel ; we ’ve got a good day, and 
a mercy it is so. ’Member when we launched the North 
Star, that it rained guns all the mornin’, and the water got 
into th baskets when we was a-fetchin’ the things over, and 
made a sight o’ pester.” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Pennel, with an air of placid satis- 
faction, “ everything seems to be going right about this 
vessel.” 


320 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Mrs. Kittridge and Sally were soon accommodated with 
seats, and Zephaniah Pennel and the Captain began trim- 
ming sail. The day was one of those perfect gems of days 
which are to be found only in the jewel-casket of October ; 
a day neither hot nor cold, with an air so clear that every 
distant pine-tree top stood out in vivid separateness, and 
every woody point and rocky island seemed cut out in crys- 
talline clearness against the sky. There was so brisk a 
breeze that the boat slanted quite to the water’s edge on one 
side, and Mara leaned over and pensively drew her little 
pearly hand through the water, and thought of the days 
when she and Moses took this sail together — she in her 
pink sun-bonnet, and he in his round straw hat, with a tin 
dinner-pail between them ; and now, to-day the ship of 
her childish dreams was to be launched. That launching 
was something she regarded almost with superstitious awe. 
The ship, built on one element, but designed to have its life 
in another, seemed an image of the soul, framed aTd fash- 
ioned with many a weary hammer-stroke in this life, but 
finding its true element only when it sails out into the ocean 
of eternity. Such was her thought as she looked down the 
clear, translucent depths ; but would it have been of any use 
to try to utter it to anybody ? — to Sally Kittridge, for ex- 
ample, who sat all in a cheerful rustle of bright ribbons 
beside her, and who would have shown her white teeth all 
round at such a suggestion, and said, “ Now, Mara, who but 
you would have thought of that ? ” 

But there are souls sent into this world who seem to have 
always mysterious affinities for the invisible and the unknown 
— who see the face of everything beautiful through a thin 
veil of mystery and sadness. The Germans call this yearn- 
ing of spirit home-sickness — the dim remembrances of a 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


321 


spirit once affiliated to some higher sphere, of whose lost 
brightness all things fair are the vague reminders. As Mara 
looked pensively into the water, it seemed to her that every 
incident of life came up out of its depths to meet her. Her 
own face reflected in a wavering image, sometimes shaped 
itself to her gaze in the likeness of the pale lady of her 
childhood, who seemed to look up at her from the waters 
with dark, mysterious eyes of tender longing. Once or 
twice this dreamy effect grew so vivid that she shivered, and 
drawing herself up from the water, tried to take an interest 
in a very minute account which Mrs. Kittridge was giving 
of the way to make corn-fritters which should taste exactly 
like oysters. The closing direction about the quantity of 
mace Mrs. Kittridge felt was too sacred for common ears, 
and therefore whispered it into Mrs. Pennel’s bonnet with a 
knowing nod and a look from her black spectacles which 
would not have been bad for a priestess of Dodona in giving 
out an oracle. In this secret direction about the mace lay 
the whole mystery of corn-oysters ; and who can say what 
consequences might ensue from casting it in an unguarded 
manner before the world ? 

And now the boat which has rounded Harpswell Point is 
skimming across to the head of Middle Bay, where the new 
ship can distinctly be discerned standing upon her ways, 
wffiile moving clusters of people were walking up and down 
her decks or lining the shore in the vicinity. All sorts of 
gossiping and neighborly chit-chat is being interchanged in 
the little world assembling there. 

“ I ha’ n’t seen the Pennels nor the Kittridges yet,” said 
Aunt Ruey, whose little roly-poly figure was made illus- 
trious in her best cinnamon-colored dyed silk. “ There ’s 
Moses Pennel a-goin’ up that ar ladder. Dear me, what 
14 * 


322 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


a beautiful feller he is ! it ’s a pity he a’n’t a-goin’ to marry 
Mara Lincoln, after all.” 

“ Ruey, do hush up,” said Miss Roxy, frowning sternly 
down from under the shadow of a preternatural black straw 
bonnet, trimmed with huge bows of black ribbon, which head- 
piece sat above her curls like a helmet. “ Don’t be a-gettin’ 
sentimental, Ruey, whatever else you get — and talkin’ like 
Miss Emily Sewell about match-makin’ ; I can’t stand it ; it 
rises on my stomach, such talk does. As to that ar Moses 
Pennel, folks a’n’t so certain as they thinks what he ’ll do. 
Sally Kittridge may think he ’s a-goin’ to have her, because 
he ’s been a-foolin’ round with her all summer, and Sally 
Kittridge may jist find she’s mistaken, that’s all.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Ruey, “ I ’member when I was a girl 
my old aunt, Jerushy Hopkins, used to be always a-dwellin* 
on this Scripture, and I ’ve been havin’ it brought up to me 
this mornin’ : i There are three things which are too won- 
derful for me, yea, four, which I know not : the way of an 
eagle in the aii\the way of a serpent upon a rock, the way 
of a ship in the sea, and the way of a man with a maid.’ 
She used to say it as a kind o’ caution to me when she used 
to think Abram Peters was bein’ attentive to me. I ’ve 
often reflected what a massy it was that ar never come to 
nothin’, for he ’s a poor drunken critter now.” 

“Well, for my part,” said Miss Roxy, fixing her eyes 
critically on the boat that was just at the landing, “ I should 
say the ways of a maid with a man was full as particular as 
any of the rest of ’em. Do look at Sally Kittridge now ! 
There ’s Tom Hiers a-helpin’ her out of the boat ; and did 
you 1 see the look she gin Moses Pennel as she went by him. 
Wal, Moses has got Mara on his arm anyhow ; there ’s a gal 
worth six-and-twenty of the other. Do see them ribbins and 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


323 


scarfs, and the furbelows, and the way that ar Sally Kit- 
tridge handles her eyes. She ’s one that one feller a’n’t 
never enough for.” 

Mara’s heart beat fast when the boat touched the shore, 
and Moses and one or two other young men came to assist in 
their landing. Never had he looked more beautiful than at 
this moment, when flushed with excitement and satisfaction 
he stood on the shore, his straw hat off, and his black curls 
blowing in the sea-breeze. He looked at Sally with a look 
of frank admiration as she stood there dropping her long 
black lashes over her bright cheeks, and coquettishly looking 
out from under them, but she stepped forward with a little 
energy of movement, and took the offered hand of Tom 
Hiers, who was gazing at her too with undisguised rapture, 
and Moses, stepping into the boat, helped Mrs. Pennel on 
shore, and then took Mara on his arm, looking her over as 
he did so with a glance far less assured and direct than he 
had given to Sally. 

“ You won’t be afraid to climb the ladders, Mara ? ” said 
he. 

“ Not if you help me,” she said. 

Sally and Tom Hiers had already walked on toward the 
vessel, she ostentatiously chatting and laughing with him. 
Moses’ brow clouded a little, and Mara noticed it. Moses 
thought he did not care for Sally ; he knew that the little 
hand that was now lying on his arm was the one he wanted, 
and yet he felt vexed when he saw Sally walk off trium- 
phantly with another. It was the dog-in-the-manger feeling 
which possesses coquettes of both sexes. 

Sally, on all former occasions, had shown a marked pref- 
erence for him, and professed supreme indifference to Tom 
Hiers. 


324 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ It ’s all well enough,” he said to himself, and he helped 
Mara up the ladders with the greatest deference and tender- 
ness. “ This little woman is worth ten such girls as Sally, 
if one only could get her heart. Here we are on our ship, 
Mara,” he said, as he lifted her over the last barrier and set 
her down on the deck. “ Look over there, do you see Eagle 
Island ? Did you dream when we used to go over there 
and spend the day that you ever would be on my ship, as 
you are to-day ? You won’t be afraid, will you, when the 
ship starts ? ” 

“ I am too much of a sea-girl to fear on anything that 
sails in water,” said Mara with enthusiasm. “ What a splen- 
did ship ! how nicely it all looks ! ” 

“ Come, let me take you over it,” said Moses, “ and show 
you my cabin.” 

Meanwhile the graceful little vessel was the subject of 
various comments by the crowd of spectators below, and the 
clatter of workmen’s hammers busy in some of the last 
preparations could yet be heard like a shower of hail- 
stones under her. 

“ I hope the ways are well greased,” said old Captain 
Eldritch. “ ’Member how the John Peters stuck in her 
ways for want of their being greased ? ” 

“ Don’t you remember the Grand Turk, that keeled over 
five minutes after she was launched ? ” said the quavering 
voice of Miss Ruey ; “ there was jist such a company of 
thoughtless young creatures aboard as there is now.” 

“ Well, there was n’t nobody hurt,” said Captain Kittridge. 
“ If Mis’ Kittridge would let me, I ’d be glad to go aboard 
this ’ere, and be launched with ’em.” 

“ I tell the Cap’n he ’s too old to be climbin’ round and 
mixin’ with young folks’ frolics,” said Mrs. Kittridge. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


325 


“ I suppose, Cap’n Pennel, you ’ve seen that the ways is 
all right,” said Captain Broad, returning to the old subject. 

“ Oh yes, it s all done as well as hands can do it,” said 
Zephaniah. “ Moses has been here since starlight this 
morning, and Moses has pretty good faculty about such 
matters.” 

“ Where ’s Mr. Sewell and Miss Emily ? ” said Miss 
Ruey. “ Oh, there they are over on that pile of rocks ; 
they get a pretty fair view there.” 

Mr. Sewell and Miss Emily were sitting under a cedar- 
tree, with two or three others, on a projecting point whence 
they could have a clear view of the launching. They were 
so near that they could distinguish clearly the figures on 
deck, and see Moses standing with his hat off, the wind 
blowing his curls back, talking earnestly to the golden-haired 
little woman on his arm. 

“ It is a launch into life for him,” said Mr. Sewell, with 
suppressed feeling. 

“ Yes, and he has Mara on his arm,” said Miss Emily ; 
“ that ’s as it should be. Who is that that Sally Kittridge 
is flirting with now? Oh, Tom Hiers. Well! he’s good 
enough for her. Why don’t she take him ? ” said Miss 
Emily, in her zeal jogging her brother’s elbow. 

“ I ’m sure, Emily, I don’t know,” said Mr. Sewell dryly ; 
“ perhaps he won’t be taken.” 

“ Don’t you think Moses looks handsome ? ” said Miss 
Emily. “ I declare there is something quite romantic and 
Spanish about him; don’t you think so, Theophilus ? ” 

“ Yes, I think so,” said her brother, quietly looking, ex- 
ternally, the meekest and most matter-of-fact of persons; 
but deep within him a voice sighed, “ Poor Dolores, be com- 
forted, your boy is beautiful and prosperous ! ” 


326 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ There, there ! ” said Miss Emily, “ I believe she is start* 
ing.” 

All eyes of the crowd were now fixed on the ship ; the 
sound of hammers stopped ; the workmen were seen flying 
in every direction to gain good positions to see her go, — 
that sight so often seen on those shores, yet to which use 
cannot dull the most insensible. 

First came a slight, almost imperceptible, movement, then 
a swift exultant rush, a dash into the hissing water, and the 
air was rent with hurrahs as the beautiful ship went floating 
far out on the blue seas, where her fairer life was hence- 
forth to be. 

Mara was leaning on Moses’ arm at the instant the ship 
began to move, but in the moment of the last dizzy rush she 
felt his arm go tightly round her, holding her so close that 
she could hear the beating of his heart. 

“ Hurrah ! ” he said, letting go his hold the moment the 
ship floated free, and swinging his hat in answer to the hats, 
scarfs, and handkerchiefs, which fluttered from the crowd 
on the shore. His eyes sparkled with a proud light as he 
stretched himself upward, raising his head and throwing 
back his shoulders with a triumphant movement. He 
looked like a young sea-king just crowned ; and the fact is 
the less wonderful, therefore, that Mara felt her heart throb 
as she looked at him, and that a treacherous throb of the 
same nature shook the breezy ribbons fluttering over the 
careless heart of Sally. A handsome young sea-captain, 
treading the deck of his own vessel, is, in his time and place, 
a prince. 

Moses looked haughtily across at Sally, and then passed 
a half-laughing defiant flash of eyes between them. He 
looked at Mara, who could certainly not have known what 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


327 


was in her eyes at the moment, — an expression that made 
his heart give a great throb, and wonder if he saw aright : 
but it was gone a moment after, as all gathered around in a 
knot exchanging congratulations on the fortunate way in 
which the affair had gone off. Then came the launching 
in boats to go back to the collation on shore, where were 
high merry-makings for the space of one or two hours : — 
and thus was fulfilled the first part of Moses Pennel’s Satur- 
day afternoon prediction. 


328 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

Moses was now within a day or two of the time of his 
sailing, and yet the distance between him and Mara seemed 
greater than ever. It is astonishing, when two people are 
once started on a wrong understanding with each other, how 
near they may live, how intimate they may be, how many 
things they may have in common, how many words they 
may speak, how closely they may seem to simulate intimacy, 
confidence, friendship, while yet there lies a gulf between 
them that neither crosses, — a reserve that neither explores. 

Like most shy girls, Mara became more shy the more 
really she understood the nature of her own feelings. The 
conversation with Sally had opened her eyes to the secret 
of her own heart, and she had a guilty feeling as if what she 
had discovered must be discovered by every one else. Yes, 
it was clear she loved Moses in a way that made him, she 
thought, more necessary to her happiness than she could 
ever be to his, — in a way that made it impossible to think 
of him as wholly and for life devoted to another, without a 
constant inner conflict. In vain had been all her little 
stratagems practised upon herself the whole summer long, 
to prove to herself that she was glad that the choice had 
fallen upon Sally. She saw clearly enough now that she 
was not glad, — that there was no w r oman or girl living, 
however dear, who could come^for life between him and her 
without casting on her heart the shuddering sorrow of a dim 
eclipse. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


329 


But now the truth was plain to herself, her whole force 
was directed toward the keeping of her secret. “ I may 
suffer,” she thought, “ but I will have strength not to be silly 
and weak. Nobody shall know, — nobody shall dream it, — 
and in the long, long time that he is away, I shall have 
strength given me to overcome.” 

So Mara put on her most cheerful and matter-of-fact kind 
of face, and plunged into the making of shirts and knitting 
of stockings, and talked of the coming voyage with such a 
total absence of any concern, that Moses began to think, 
after all, there could be no depth to her feelings, or that the 
deeper ones were all absorbed by some one else. 

“ You really seem to enjoy the prospect of my going 
away,” said he to her, one morning, as she was energetically 
busying herself with her preparations. 

“Well, of course; you know your career must begin. 
You must make your fortune ; and it is pleasant to think 
how favorably everything is shaping for you.” 

“ One likes, however, to be a little regretted,” said Moses, 
in a tone of pique. 

“ A little regretted ! ” Mara’s heart beat at these words, 
but her hypocrisy was well practised. She put down the 
rebellious throb, and assuming a look of open, sisterly friend- 
liness, said, quite naturally, “ Why, we shall all miss you, of 
course.” 

“ Of course,” said Moses, — “ one would be glad to be 
missed some other way than of course .” 

“ Oh, as to that, make yourself easy,” said Mara. “We 
shall all be dull enough when you are gone to content the 
most exacting.” Still she spoke, not stopping her stitching, 
and raising her soft brown eyes with a frank, open look into 
Moses’ — no tremor, not even of an eyelid. 


330 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ You men must have everything,” she continued, gayly ; 
“ the enterprise, the adventure, the novelty, the pleasure of 
feeling that you are something, and can do something in the 
world ; and besides all this, you want the satisfaction of 
knowing that we women are following in chains behind your 
triumphal car ! ” 

There was a dash of bitterness in this, which was a rare 
ingredient in Mara’s conversation. 

Mosqp took the word. “And you women sit easy at 
home, sewing and singing, and forming romantic pictures of 
our life as like its homely reality as romances generally are 
to reality ; and while we are off in the hard struggle for 
position and the means of life, you hold your hearts ready 
for the first rich man that offers a fortune ready made.” 

“ The first ! ” said Mara. “ Oh, you naughty ! sometimes 
we try two or three.” 

“ Well, then, I suppose this is from one of them,” said 
Moses, flapping down a letter from Boston, directed in a 
masculine hand, which he had got at the post-office that 
morning. 

Now Mara knew that this letter was nothing in particular, 
but she was taken by surprise, and her skin was delicate as 
peach-blossom, and so she could not help a sudden blush, 
which rose even to her golden hair, vexed as she was to feel 
it coming. She put the letter quietly in her pocket, and for 
a moment seemed too discomposed to answer. 

“ You do well to keep your own counsel,” said Moses. 
“ No friend so near as one’s self, is a good maxim. One 
does not expect young girls to learn it so early, but it seems 
they do.” 

“ And why should n’t they as well as young men ? ” said 
Mara. “ Confidence begets confidence, they say.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


331 


“ I have no ambition to play confidant,” said Moses ; “ al- 
though as one who stands to you in the relation of older 
brother and guardian, and just on the verge of a long voy 
age, I might be supposed anxious to know.” 

“ And I have no ambition to be confidant,” said Mara, all 
her spirit sparkling in her eyes ; “ although when one stands 
to you in the relation of an only sister, I might be supposed 
perhaps to feel some interest to be in your confidence.” 

The words “ older brother ” and “ only sister ” grated on 
the ears of both the combatants as a decisive sentence. 
Mara never looked so pretty in her life, for the whole force 
of her being was awake, glowing and watchful, to guard pas- 
sage, door, and window of her soul, that no treacherous hint 
might escape. Had he not just reminded her t,hat he was 
only an older brother ? and what would he think if he knew 
the truth? — and Moses thought the words only sister un- 
equivocal declaration of how the matter stood in her view, 
and so he rose, and saying, “ I won’t detain you longer from 
your letter,” took his hat and went out. 

“ Are you going down to Sally’s ? ” said Mara, coming to 
the door and looking out after him. 

“Yes.” 

“ Well, ask her to come home with you and spend the 
evening. I have ever so many things to tell her.” 

“ I will,” said Moses, as he lounged away. 

“ The thing is clear enough,” said Moses to himself. 
“ Why should I make a fool of myself any further ? What 
possesses us men always to set our hearts precisely on what 
is n’t to be had ? There ’s Sally Kittridge likes me ; I can 
see that plainly enough, for all her mineing; and why 
could n’t I have had the sense to fall in love with her ? She 
will make a splendid, showy woman. She has talent and 


332 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


tact enough to rise to any position I may rise to, let me rise 
as high as I will. She will always have skill and efiergy in 
the conduct of life ; and when all the froth and foam of 
youth has subsided, she will make a noble woman. Why, 
then, do I cling to this fancy ? I feel that this little flossy 
cloud, this delicate, quiet little puff* of thistle-down, on which 
I have set my heart, is the only thing for me, and that with- 
out her my life will always be incomplete. I remember all 
our early life. It was she who sought me, and ran after 
me, and where has all that love gone to ? Gone to this 
fellow ; that ’s plain enough. When a girl like her is so 
comfortably cool and easy, it ’s because her heart is off 
somewhere else.” 

This conversation took place about four o’clock in as fine 
an October afternoon as you could wish to see. The sun, 
sloping westward, turned to gold the thousand blue scales 
of the ever-heaving sea, and soft, pine-scented winds were 
breathing everywhere through the forests, waving the long, 
swaying films of heavy moss, and twinkling the leaves of the 
silver birches that fluttered through the leafy gloom. The 
moon, already in the sky, gave promise of a fine moonlight 
night ; and the wild and lonely stillness of the island, and 
the thoughts of leaving in a few days, all conspired to foster 
the restless excitement in our hero’s mind into a kind of 
romantic unrest. 

Now, in some such states, a man disappointed in one 
woman will turn to another, because, in a certain way and 
measure, her presence stills the craving and fills the void. 
It is a sort of supposititious courtship, — a saying to one 
woman, who is sympathetic and receptive, the words of 
longing and love that another will not receive. To be sure, 
it is a game unworthy of any true man, — a piece of sheer, 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


333 


reckless, inconsiderate selfishness. But men do it, as they do 
many other unworthy things, from the mere promptings of 
present impulse, and let consequences take care of themselves. 

Moses met Sally that afternoon in just the frame to play 
the lover in this hypothetical, supposititious way, with words 
and looks and tones that came from feelings given to an- 
other. And as to Sally? 

Well, for once, Greek met Greek ; for although Sally, as 
we showed her, was a girl of generous impulses, she was yet 
in no danger of immediate translation on account of super- 
human goodness. In short, Sally had made up her mind 
that Moses should give her a chance to say that precious 
and golden JVo, which should enable her to count him as 
one of her captives, — and then he might go where he liked 
for all her. 

So said the wicked elf, as she looked into her own great 
eyes in the little square of mirror shaded by a misty as- 
paragus bush ; and to this end there were various braidings 
and adornings of the lustrous black hair, and coquettish ear- 
rings were mounted that hung glancing and twinkling just 
by the smooth outline of her glowing cheek, — and then 
Sally looked at herself in a friendly way of approbation, and 
nodded at the bright dimpled shadow with a look of secret 
understanding. The real Sally and the Sally of the looking- 
glass were on admirable terms with each other, and both of 
one mind about the plan of campaign against the common 
enemy. Sally thought of him as he stood kingly and tri- 
umphant on the deck of his vessel, his great black eyes 
flashing confident glances into hers, and she felt a rebellious 
rustle of all her plumage. “ No, sir,” she said to herself, 
“you don’t do it. You shall never find me among your 
slaves,” — “that you know of,” added a doubtful voice within 


334 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


her. “ Never to your knowledge” she said, as she turned 
away. “ I wonder if he will come here this evening,” she 
said, as she began to work upon a pillow-case, — one of a 
set which Mrs. Kittridge had confided to her nimble fingers. 
The seam was long, straight, and monotonous, and Sally was 
restless and fidgety ; her thread would catch in knots, and 
when she tried to loosen it, would break, and the needle 
had to be threaded over. Somehow the work was terribly irk- 
some to her, and the house looked so still and dim and lone- 
some, and the tick-tock of the kitchen-clock was insufferable, 
and Sally let her work fall in her lap and looked out of the 
open window, far to the open ocean, where a fresh breeze 
was blowing toward her, and her eyes grew deep and dreamy 
following the gliding ship sails. Sally was getting romantic. 
Had she been reading novels ? Novels ! What can a pretty 
woman find in a novel equal to the romance that is all the 
while weaving and unweaving about her, and of which no 
human foresight can tell her the catastrophe ? It is novels 
that give false views of life. Is there not an eternal novel, 
with all these false, cheating views, written in the breast of 
every beautiful and attractive girl whose witcheries make 
every man that comes near her talk like a fool ? Like a 
sovereign princess, she never hears the truth, unless it be 
from the one manly man in a thousand, who understands 
both himself and her. From all the rest she hears only 
flatteries more or less ingenious, according to the ability of 
the framer. Compare, for instance, what Tom Brown says 
to little Seraphina at the party to-night, with what Tom 
Brown sober says to sober .sister Maria about her to-morrow. 
Tom remembers that he was a fool last night, and knows 
what he thinks and always has thought to-day ; but pretty 
Seraphina thinks he adores her, so that no matter what she 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


335 


does he will never see a flaw, she is sure of that, — poor 
little puss ! She does not know that philosophic Tom looks 
at her as he does at a glass of champagne, or a dose of ex- 
hilarating gas, and calculates how much it will do for him 
to take of the stimulus without interfering with his serious 
and settled plans of life, which, of course, he doesn’t mean 
to give up for her. The one-thousand-and-first man in 
creation is he that can feel the fascination but will not flatter, 
and that tries to tell to the little tyrant the rare word of 
truth that may save her ; — he is, as we say, the one-thou- 
sand-and-first. Well, as Sally sat with her great dark eyes 
dreamily following the ship, she mentally thought over all the 
compliments Moses had paid her, expressed or understood, 
and those of all her other admirers, who had built up a sort 
of cloud-world around her, so that her little feet never rested 
on the soil of reality. Sally was shrewd and keen, and had 
a native mother-wit in the discernment of spirits, that made 
her feel that somehow this was all false coin ; but still she 
counted it over, and it looked so pretty and bright that she 
sighed to think it was not real. 

“ If it only had been,” she thought ; “ if there were only 
any truth to the creature ; he is so handsome, — it ’s a pity. 
But I do believe in his secret heart he is in love with Mara ; 
he is in love with some one, I know. I have seen looks that 
must come from something real ; but they were not for me. 
I have a hind of power over him, though,” she said, resuming 
her old wicked look, “ and I ’ll puzzle him a little, and tor- 
ment him. He shall find his match in me,” and Sally nodded 
to a cat-bird that sat perched on a pine-tree, as if she had a 
secret understanding with him, and the cat-bird went off into 
a perfect roulade of imitations of all that was going on in the 
late bird-operas of the season. 


336 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Sally was roused from her revery by a spray of golden- 
rod that was thrown into her lap by an invisible hand, and 
Moses soon appeared at the window. 

“ There ’s a plume that would be becoming to your hair,” 
he said ; “ stay, let me arrange it.” 

“ No, no ; you ’ll tumble my hair, — what can you know 
of such things ? ” 

Moses held the spray aloft, and leaned toward her with a 
sort of quiet, determined insistance. 

“ By your leave, fair lady,” he said, wreathing it in her 
hair, and then drawing back a little, he looked at her with 
so much admiration that Sally felt herself blush. 

“ Come, now, I dare say you ’ve made a fright of me,” 
she said, rising and instinctively turning to the looking-glass ; 
but she had too much coquetry not to see how admirably the 
golden plume suited her black hair, and the brilliant eyes 
and cheeks ; she turned to Moses again, and courtesied say- 
ing “ thank you, sir,” dropping her eyelashes with a mock 
humility. 

“ Come, now,” said Moses ; “ I am sent after you to come 
and spend the evening ; let ’s walk along the sea-shore, and 
get there by degrees.” 

And so they set out ; but the path was circuitous, for 
Moses was always stopping, now at this point and now at 
that, and enacting some of those thousand little by-plays 
which a man can get up with a pretty woman. They 
searched for smooth pebbles where the waves had left 
them, — many-colored, pink and crimson and yellow and 
brown, all smooth and rounded by the eternal tossings of the 
old sea that had made playthings of them for centuries, and 
with every pebble given and taken were things said which 
should have meant more and more, had the play been ear- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


337 


nest. Had Moses any idea of offering himself to Sally ? 
No ; but he was in one of those fluctuating, unresisting 
moods of mind in which he was willing to lie like a chip 
on the tide of present emotion, and let it rise and fall and 
dash him when it liked ; and Sally never had seemed more 
beautiful and attractive to him than that afternoon, because 
there was a shade of reality and depth about her that he 
had never seen before. 

“ Come on, and let me show you my hermitage,” said 
Moses, guiding her along the slippery projecting rocks, all 
covered with yellow tresses of sea-weed. Sally often slipped 
on this treacherous footing, and Moses was obliged to hold 
her up, and instinctively he threw a meaning into his manner 
so much more than ever he had before, that by the time they 
had gained the little cove both were really agitated and ex- 
cited. He felt that temporary delirium which is often the 
mesmeric effect of a strong womanly presence, and she felt 
that agitation which every woman must when a determined 
hand is striking on the great vital chord of her being. When 
they had stepped round the last point of rock they found 
themselves driven by the advancing tide up into the little 
lonely grotto, — and there they were with no look-out but 
the wide blue sea, all spread out in rose and gold under the 
twilight skies, with a silver moon looking down upon them. 

“ Sally,” said Moses, in a low, earnest whisper, “ you love 
me, — do you not ? ” and he tried to pass his arm around 
her. 

She turned and flashed at him a look of mingled terror 
and defiance, and struck out her hands at him — then im- 
petuously turning away and retreating to the other end of 
the grotto, she sat down on a rock and began to cry. 

Moses came toward her, and kneeling, tried to take her 
15 


338 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


hand. She raised her head angrily, and again repulsed 
him. 

“ Go ! ” she said. “ What right had you to say that ? 
What right had you even to think it ? ” 

“ Sally, you do love me. It cannot but be. You are a 
woman ; you could not have been with me as we have and 
not feel more than friendship.” 

“ Oh, you men ! — your conceit passes understanding,” 
said Sally. “ You think we are born to be your bond 
slaves, — but for once you are mistaken, sir. I don't love 
you ; and what ’s more, you don’t love me, — you know you 
don’t ; you know that you love somebody else. You love 
Mara, — you know you do ; there ’s no truth in you,” she 
said, rising indignantly. 

Moses felt himself color. There was an embarrassed 
pause, and then he answered, — 

“ Sally, why should I love Mara ? Her heart is all given 
to another, — you yourself know it.” 

“ I don’t know it either,” said Sally ; “ I know it is n’t so.” 

“ But you gave me to understand so.” 

“ Well, sir, you put prying questions about what you 
ought to have asked her, and so what was I to do ? Be- 
sides, I did want to show you how much better Mara 
could do than to take you ; besides, I did n’t know till late- 
ly. I never thought she could care much for any man 
more than I could.” 

“ And you think she loves me ? ” said Moses, eagerly, a 
flash of joy illuminating his face ; “ do you, really ? ” 

“ There you are,” said Sally ; “ it ’s a shame I have let 
you know ! Yes, Moses Pennel, she loves you like an 
angel, as none of you men deserve to be loved, — as you 
in particular don’t.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


339 


Moses sat down on a point of rock, and looked on the 
ground discountenanced. Sally stood up glowing and tri- 
umphant, as if she had her foot on the neck of her oppressor 
and meant to make the most of it. 

“ Now what do you think of yourself for all this summer’s 
work ? — for what you have just said, asking me if I did n’t 
love you ? Supposing, now, I had done as other girls would, 
played the fool and blushed, and said yes ? Why, to-mor- 
row you would have been thinking how to be rid of me ! I 
shall save you all that trouble, sir.” 

“ Sally, I own I have been acting like a fool,” said Moses, 
humbly. 

“ You have done more than that, — you have acted wick- 
edly,” said Sally. 

“ And am I the only one to blame ? ” said Moses, lifting 
his head with a show of resistance. 

“ Listen, sir ! ” said Sally, energetically ; “ I have played 
the fool and acted wrong too, but there is just this difference 
between you and me : you had nothing to lose and I a great 
deal ; — your heart, such as it was, was safely disposed of. 
But supposing you had won mine, what would you have 
done with it ? That was the last thing you considered.” 

“ Go on, Sally, don’t spare ; I ’m a vile dog, unworthy of 
either of you,” said Moses. 

Sally looked down on her handsome penitent with some 
relenting as he sat quite dejected, his strong arms drooping, 
and his long eyelashes cast down. 

“I’ll be friends with you,” she said, “because, after all, 
I’m not so very much better than you. We have both done 
wrong, and made dear Mara very unhappy. But after all, I 
was not so much to blame as you ; because, if there had 
been any reality in your love, I could have paid it honestly. 


340 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

I had a heart to give, — I have it now, and hope long to 
keep it,” said Sally. 

“ Sally, you are a right noble girl. I never knew what 
you were till now,” said Moses, looking at her with admira- 
tion. 

“ It ’s the first time for all these six months that we have 
either of us spoken a word of truth or sense to each other 
I never did anything but trifle with you, and you the same. 
Now we Ve come to some plain dry land, we may walk on 
and be friends. So now help me up these rocks, and I will 
go home.” 

“ And you ’ll not come home with me ? ” 

“ Of course not. I think you may now go home and have 
one talk with Mara without witnesses.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


341 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

Moses walked slowly home from his interview with Sally 
in a sort of maze of confused thought. In general, men un- 
derstand women only from the outside, and judge them with 
about as much real comprehension as an eagle might judge 
a canary-bird. The difficulty of real understanding intensi- 
fies in proportion as the man is distinctively manly, and the 
woman womanly. There are men with a large infusion of 
the feminine element in their composition, who read the 
female nature with more understanding than commonly falls 
to the lot of men ; but in general, when a man passes be- 
yond the mere outside artifices and unrealities which lie 
between the two sexes, and really touches his finger to any 
vital chord in the heart of a fair neighbor, he is astonished 
at the quality of the vibration. 

“ I could not have dreamed there was so much in her,” 
thought Moses, as he turned away from Sally Kittridge. He 
felt humbled as well as astonished by the moral lecture 
which this frisky elf with whom he had all summer been 
amusing himself, preached to him from the depths of a real 
woman’s heart. What she said of Mara’s loving him filled 
his eyes with remorseful tears, — and for the moment he 
asked himself whether this restless, jealous, exacting desire 
which he felt to appropriate her whole life and heart to him- 
self, were as really worthy of the name of love as the gener- 
ous self-devotion with which she had, all her life, made all 
his interests her own. 


342 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


Was he to go to her now and tell her that he loved her, 
and therefore he had teased and vexed her, — therefore he 
had seemed to prefer another before her, — therefore he 
had practised and experimented upon her nature ? A sus- 
picion rather stole upon him that love which expresses itself 
principally in making exactions and giving pain is not ex- 
actly worthy of the name. And yet he had been secretly 
angry with her all summer for being the very reverse of 
this ; for her apparent cheerful willingness to see him happy 
with another ; for the absence of all signs of jealousy, — all 
desire of exclusive appropriation. It showed, he said to 
himself, that there was no love ; and now when it dawned 
on him that this might be the very heroism of self-devotion, 
he asked himself which was best worthy to be called love. 

“ She did love him, then ! ” The thought blazed up 
through the smouldering embers of thought in his heart like 
a tongue of flame. She loved him ! He felt a sort of tri- 
umph in it, for he was sure Sally must know, they were so 
intimate. Well, he would go to her, and tell her all, confess 
all his sins, and be forgiven. 

When he came back to the house all was still evening. 
The moon, which was playing brightly on the distant sea, 
left one side of the brown house in shadow. Moses saw a 
light gleaming behind the curtain in the little room on the 
lower floor, which had been his peculiar sanctum during the 
summer past. He had made a sort of library of it, keeping 
there his books and papers. Upon the white curtain flitted, 
from time to time, a delicate, busy shadow ; now it rose and 
now it stooped, and then it rose again — grew dim and van- 
ished, and then came out again. His heart beat quick. 

Mara was in his room, busy, as she always had been be- 
fore his departures, in cares for him. How many things had 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


343 


she made for him, and done and arranged for him all his life 
long ! — things which he had taken as much as a matter of 
course as the shining of that moon. His thoughts went 
back to the times of his first going to sea, — he a rough, 
chaotic boy, sensitive and surly, and she the ever thoughtful 
good angel of a little girl, whose loving-kindness he had felt 
free to use and to abuse. He remembered that he made her 
cry there when he should have spoken lovingly and grate- 
fully to her, and that the words of acknowledgment that 
ought to have been spoken, never had been said, — remained 
unsaid to that hour. He stooped low, and came quite close 
to the muslin curtain. All was bright in the room, and 
shadowy without ; he could see her movements as through a 
thin white haze. She was packing his sea-chest ; his things 
were lying about her, folded or rolled nicely. Now he saw 
her on her knees writing something with a pencil in a book, 
and then she enveloped it very carefully in silk paper, and 
tied it trimly, and hid it away at the bottom of the chest. 
Then she remained a moment kneeling at the chest, her head 
resting in her hands. A sort of strange sacred feeling came 
over him as he heard a low murmur, and knew that she 
felt a Presence that he never felt or acknowledged. He 
felt somehow that he was doing her a wrong thus to be pry- 
ing upon moments when she thought herself alone with God ; 
a sort of vague remorse filled him ; he felt as if she were 
too good for him. He turned away, and entering the front- 
door of the house, stepped noiselessly along and lifted the 
latch of the door. He heard a rustle as of one rising hastily 
as he opened it and stood before Mara. He had made up 
his mind what to say ; but when she stood there before him, 
with her surprised, inquiring eyes, he felt confused. 

“ What, home so soon ? ” she said. 


344 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ You did not expect me, then ? ” 

“ Of course not, — not for these two hours ; so,” she said, 
looking about, “ I found some mischief to do among your 
things. If you had waited as long as I expected, they 
would all have been quite right again, and you would never 
have known.” 

Moses sat down and drew her toward him, as if he were 
going to say something, and then stopped and began confus- 
edly playing with her work-box. 

“ Now, please don’t,” said she, archly. u You know what 
a little old maid I am about my things ! ” 

“ Mara,” said Moses, “ people have asked you to marry 
them, have there not ? ” 

“ People asked me to marry them ! ” said Mara. “ I hope 
not. What an odd question ! ” 

“ You know what I mean,” said Moses ; “ you have had 
offers of marriage — from Mr. Adams, for example.” 

“ And what if I have ? ” 

“ You did not accept him, Mara ? ” said Moses. 

“ No, I did not.” 

“ And yet he was a fine man, I am told, and well fitted to 
make you happy.” 

“ I believe he was,” said Mara, quietly. 

“ And why were you so foolish ? ” 

Mara was fretted at this question. She supposed Moses 
had come to tell her of his engagement to Sally, and that 
this was a kind of preface, and she answered, — 

“ I don’t know why you call it foolish. I was a true friend 
to Mr. Adams. I saw intellectually that he might have the 
power of making any reasonable woman happy. I think 
now that the woman will be fortunate who becomes his wife 
but I did not wish to marry him.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


345 


“ Is there anybody you prefer to him, Mara ? ” said Moses. 

She started up with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes. 

“ You have no right to ask me that, though you are my 
brother.” 

“I am not your brother, Mara,” said Moses, rising and 
going toward her, “and that is why I ask you. I feel I 
have a right to ask you.” 

“ I do not understand you,” she said, faintly. 

“I can speak plainer, then. I wish to put in my poor 
venture. I love you, Mara — not as a brother. I wish 
you to be my wife, if you will.” 

While Moses was saying these words, Mara felt a sort of 
whirling in her head, and it grew dark before her eyes ; but 
she had a strong, firm will, and she mastered herself and 
answered, after a moment, in a quiet, sorrowful tone, “ How 
can I believe this, Moses ? If it is true, why have you 
done as you have this summer?” 

“ Because I was a fool, Mara, — because I was jealous of 
Mr. Adams, — because I somehow hoped, after all, that you 
either loved me or that I might make you think more of me 
through jealousy of another. They say that love always is 
shown by jealousy.” 

“ Not true love, I should think,” said Mara. “ How could 
you do so ? — it was cruel to her, — cruel to me.” 

“ I admit it, — anything, everything you can say. I have 
acted like a fool and a knave, if you will; but after all, 
Mara, I do love you. I know I am not worthy of you — 
never was — never can be ; you are in all things a true 
noble woman, and I have been unmanly.” 

It is not to be supposed that all this was spoken without 
accompaniments of looks, movements, and expressions of 
face such as we cannot give, but such as doubled their power 
15 * 


346 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


to the parties concerned ; and the “ I love you ” had its usual 
conclusive force as argument, apology, promise, — covering 
like charity, a multitude of sins. 

Half an hour after, you might have seen a youth and a 
maiden coming together out of the door of the brown house, 
and walking arm in arm toward the sea-beach. 

It was one of those wonderfully clear moonlight evenings, 
when the ocean, like a great reflecting mirror, seems to 
double the brightness of the sky, — and its vast expanse 
lay all around them in its stillness, like an eternity of wave- 
less peace. Mara remembered that time in her girlhood 
when she had followed Moses into the woods on just such a 
night, — how she had sat there under the shadows of the 
trees, and looked over to Harpswell and noticed the white 
houses and the meeting-house, all so bright and clear in the 
moonlight, and then off again on the other side of the- island 
where silent ships were coming and going in the mysterious 
stillness. They were talking together now with that outflow- 
ing fulness which comes when the seal of some great re- 
serve has just been broken, — going back over their lives 
from day to day, bringing up incidents of childhood, and 
turning them gleefully like two children. 

And then Moses had all the story of his life to relate, and 
to tell Mara all he had learned of his mother, — going over 
with all the narrative contained in Mr. Sewell’s letter. 

“ You see, Mara, that it was intended that you should be 
my fate,” he ended ; “ so the winds and waves took me up 
and carried me to the lonely island where the magic princess 
dwelt.” 

“ You are Prince Ferdinand,” said Mara. 

“ And you are Miranda,” said he. 

<£ Ah ! ” she said with fervor, “ how plainly we can see 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


347 


that our heavenly Father has been guiding our way ! How 
good he is, — and how we must try to live for Him, — both 
of us.” 

A sort of cloud passed over Moses* brow. He looked 
embarrassed, and there was a pause between them, and then 
he turned the conversation. 

Mara felt pained; it was like a sudden discord; such 
thoughts and feelings were the very breath of her life ; she 
could not speak in perfect confidence and unreserve, as she 
then spoke, without uttering them ; and her finely organized 
nature felt a sort of electric consciousness of repulsion and 
dissent. 

She grew abstracted, and they walked on in silence. 

“ I see now, Mara, I have pained you,” said Moses, “ but 
there are a class of feelings that you have that I have not 
and cannot have. No, I cannot feign anything. I can un- 
derstand what religion is in you, — I can admire its results. 
I can be happy, if it gives you any comfort ; but people are 
differently constituted. I never can feel as you do.” 

“ Oh, don’t say never” said Mara, with an intensity that 
nearly startled him ; “ it has been the one prayer, the one 
hope, of my life, that you might have these comforts, — this 
peace.” 

“ I need no comfort or peace except what I shall find in 
you,” said Moses, drawing her to himself, and looking admir- 
ingly at her ; “ but pray for me still. I always thought that 
my wife must be one of the sort of women who pray.” 

« And why ? ” said Mara, in surprise. 

“ Because I need to be loved a great deal, and it is only 
that kind who pray who know how to love really. If you 
had not prayed for me all this time, you never would have 
loved me in spite of all my faults, as you did, and do, and 


348 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


will, as I know you will,” lie said, folding her in his arms ; 
and in his secret heart he said, “ Some of this intensity, this 
devotion, which went upward to heaven, will be mine one 
day. She will worship me.” 

“ The fact is, Mara,” he said, “lama child of this world. 
I have no sympathy with things not seen. You are a half- 
spiritual creature, — a child of air ; and but for the great 
woman’s heart in you, I should feel that you were something 
uncanny and unnatural. I am selfish, I know ; I frankly 
admit, I never disguised it ; but I love your religion because 
it makes you love me. It is an incident to that loving, trust- 
ing nature which makes you all and wholly mine, as I want 
you to be. I want you all and wholly ; every thought, 
every feeling, — the whole strength of your being. I don’t 
care if I say it : I would not wish to be second in your 
heart even to God himself! ” 

“ Oh, Moses ! ” said Mara, almost starting away from him, 
“ such words are dreadful ; they will surely bring evil upon 
us.” 

“ I only breathed out my nature as you did yours. Why 
should you love an unseen and distant Being more than you 
do one whom you can feel and see, who holds you in his 
arms, whose heart beats like your own ? ” 

“ Moses,” said Mara, stopping and looking at him in the 
clear moonlight, “ God has always been to me not so much 
like a father as like a dear and tender mother. Perhaps it 
was because I was a poor orphan, and my father and mother 
died at my birth, that He has been so loving to me. I never 
remember the time when I did not feel his presence in my 
joys and my sorrows. I never had a thought of joy and 
sorrow that I could not say to Him. I never woke in the 
night that I did not feel that He was loving and watching 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


349 


me, and that I loved Him in return. Oh, how many, many 
things I have said to Him about you ! My heart would have 
broken years ago, had it not been for Him ; because, though 
you did not know it, you often seemed unkind ; you hurt me 
very often when you did not mean to. His love is so much 
a part of my life that I cannot conceive of life without it. 
It is the very air I breathe.” 

Moses stood still a moment, for Mara spoke with a fer- 
vor that affected him ; then he drew her to his heart, and 
said, — 

“ Oh, what could ever make you love me ? ” 

“ He sent you and gave you to me,” she answered, “ to be 
mine in time and eternity.” 

The words were spoken in a kind of enthusiasm so differ- 
ent from the usual reserve of Mara, that they seemed like a 
prophecy. That night, for the first time in her life, had she 
broken the reserve which was her very nature, and spoken 
of that which was the intimate and hidden history of her 
soul. 


350 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

“ And so,” said Mrs. Captain Badger to Miss Roxy Tooth 
acre, “ it seems that Moses Pennel a’n’t going to have Sally 
Kittridge after all, — he ’s engaged to Mara Lincoln.” 

“ More shame for him,” said Miss Roxy, with a frown 
that made her mohair curls look really tremendous. 

Miss Roxy and Mrs. Badger were the advance party at 
a quilting, to be holden at the house of Mr. Sewell, and had 
come at one o’clock to do the marking upon the quilt, which 
was to be filled up by the busy fingers of all the women in 
the parish. Said quilt was to have a bordering of a pattern 
commonly denominated in those parts clam-shell, and this 
Miss Roxy was diligently marking with indigo. 

“ What makes you say so, now ? ” said Mrs. Badger, a 
fat, comfortable, motherly matron, who alw r ays patronized 
the last matrimonial venture that put forth among the young 
people. 

“ What business had he to flirt and gallivant all summer 
with Sally Kittridge, and make everybody think he was 
going to have her, and then turn round to Mara Lincoln at 
the last minute ? I wish I ’d been in Mara’s place.” 

In Miss Roxy’s martial enthusiasm, she gave a sudden 
poke to her frisette, giving to it a diagonal bristle which 
extremely increased its usually severe expression ; and any 
one contemplating her at the moment would have thought 
that for Moses Pennel or any other young man to come with 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


351 


tender propositions in that direction, would have been in- 
deed a venturesome enterprise. 

“ I tell you what ’t is, Mis’ Badger,” she said, “ I ’ve 
known Mara since she was born, — I may say I fetched 
her up myself, for if I had n’t trotted and tended her them 
first four weeks of her life, Mis’ Pennel ’d never have got 
her through ; and I ’ve watched her every year since ; and 
havin’ Moses Pennel is the only silly thing I ever knew her 
to do ; but you never can tell what a girl will do when it 
comes to marryin’, — never ! ” 

“ But he ’s a real stirrin’, likely young man, and captain 
of a fine ship,” said Mrs. Badger. 

“ Don’t care if he ’s captain of twenty ships,” said Miss 
Roxy, obdurately ; “ he a’n’t a professor of religion, and 
I believe he ’s an infidel, and she ’s one of the Lord’s 
people.” 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Badger, “ you know the unbelievin’ 
husband shall be sanctified by the believin’ wife.” 

“ Much sanctifyin’ he ’ll get,” said Miss Roxy, contemp- 
tuously. * I don’t believe he loves her any more than fancy ; 
she ’s the last plaything, and when he ’s got her, he ’ll be 
tired of her, as he always was with anything he got ever 
since. I tell you, Moses Pennel is all for pride and ambi- 
tion and the world ; and his wife, when he gets used to her, 
’ll be only a circumstance, — that ’s all.” 

“ Come, now, Miss Roxy,” said Miss Emily, who in her 
best silk and smoothly-brushed hair had just come in, “ we 
must not let you talk so. Moses Pennel has had long talks 
with brother, and he thinks him in a very hopeful way, 
and we are all delighted ; and as to Mara, she is as fresh 
and happy as a little rose.” 

u So I tell Roxy,” said Miss Ruey, who had been absent 


352 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


from tlie room to hold private consultations with Miss Emily 
concerning the biscuits and sponge-cake for tea, and who 
now sat down to the quilt and began to unroll a capacious 
and very limp calico thread-case ; and placing her specta- 
cles awry on her little pug nose, she began a series of in- 
genious dodges with her thread, designed to hit the eye of 
her needle. 

“ The old folks,” she continued, “ are e’en a’most tickled 
to pieces, — ’cause they think it ’ll jist be the salvation of 
him to get Mara.” 

“ I a’n’t one of the sort that wants to be a-usin’ up girls 
for the salvation of fellers,” said Miss Roxy, severely. 
“ Ever since he nearly like to have got her eat up by 
sharks, by giggiting her off in the boat out to sea when she 
wa’ n’t more ’n three years old, I always have thought he 
was a misfortin’ in that family, and I think so now.” 

Here broke in Mrs. Eaton, a thrifty energetic widow of 
a deceased sea-captain, who had been left with a tidy little 
fortune which commanded the respect of the neighborhood. 
Mrs. Eaton had entered silently during the discussion, but 
of course had come, as every other woman had that after- 
noon, with views to be expressed upon the subject. 

“ For my part,” she said, as she stuck a decisive needle 
into the first clam-shell pattern, “ I a’n’t so sure that all 
the advantage in this match is on Moses Pennel’s part. 
Mara Lincoln is a good little thing, but she a’n’t fitted to 
help a man along, — she ’ll always be wantin’ somebody to 
help her. Why, I ’member goin’ a voyage with Cap’n 
Eaton, when I saved the ship, if anybody did, — it was 
allowed on all hands. Cap’n Eaton was n’t hearty at that 
time, he was jist gettin’ up from a fever, — it was when 
Marthy Ann was a baby, and I jist took her and went to 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 353 

sea and took care of him. I used to work the longitude for 
him and help him lay the ship’s course when his head was 
bad, — and when we came on the coast, we were kept out 
of harbor beatin’ about nearly three weeks, and all the 
ship’s tacklin’ was stiff with ice, and I tell you the men 
never would have stood it through and got the ship in, if it 
had n’t been for me. I kept their mittens and stockings all 
the while a-dryin’ at my stove in the cabin, and hot coffee 
all the while a-boilin’ for ’em, or I believe they ’d a-frozen 
their hands and feet, and never been able to worl^ the ship 
in. That ’s the way I did. Now Sally Kittridge is a great 
deal more like that than Mara.” 

“ There ’s no doubt that Sally is smart,” said Mrs. Bad- 
ger, “but then it a’n’t every one can do like you, Mrs. 
Eaton.” 

“ Oh no, oh no,” was murmured from mouth to mouth ; 
“ Mrs. Eaton must n’t think she ’s any rule for others, — 
everybody knows she can do more than most people ; ” 
— whereat the pacified Mrs. Eaton said “ she did n’t know 
as it was anything remarkable, — it showed what anybody 
might do, if they ’d only try and have resolution ; but that 
Mara never had been brought up to have resolution, — and 
her mother never had resolution before her, it wa’ n’t in 
any of Mary Pennel’s family, — she knew their grand- 
mother and all their aunts, and they were all a weakly set, 
and not fitted to get along in life, — they were a kind of 
people that somehow did n’t seem to know how to take hold 
of things.” 

At this moment the consultation was hushed up by the 
entrance of Sally Kittridge and Mara, evidently on the 
closest terms of intimacy, and more than usually demon- 
strative and affectionate, — they would sit together and use 


354 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


each other’s needles, scissors, thread, and thimbles inter- 
changeably, as if anxious to express every minute the most 
overflowing confidence. Sly winks and didactic nods were 
covertly exchanged among the elderly people, and when Mrs. 
Kittridge entered with more than usual airs of impressive 
solemnity, several of these were covertly directed toward 
her, as a matron whose views in life must have been con- 
siderably darkened by the recent event. 

Mrs. Kittridge, however, found an opportunity to whisper 
under her breath to Miss Ruey what a relief to her it was 
that the affair had taken such a turn. She had felt uneasy 
all summer for fear of what might come. Sally was so 
thoughtless and worldly, she felt afraid that he would lead 
her astray. She did n’t see, for her part, how a professor 
of religion like Mara could make up her mind to such an 
unsettled kind of fellow, even if he did seem to be rich and 
well to do. But then she had done looking for consistency ; 
and she sighed and vigorously applied herself to quilting 
like one who has done with the world. 

In return, Miss Ruey sighed and took snuff, and related 
for the hundredth time to Mrs. Kittridge the great escape 
she once had from the addresses of Abraham Peters, who 
had turned out a “ poor drunken creetur.” But then it was 
only natural that Mara should be interested in Moses ; and 
the good soul went off into her favorite verse : — 

“ The fondness of a creature’s love, 

How strong it strikes the sense! 

Thither the warm affections move, 

Nor can we drive them thence.” 

In fact, Miss Ruey’s sentimental vein was in quite a gushing 
state, for she more than once extracted from the dark cor- 
ners of the limp calico thread-case we have spoken of cer- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


355 


tain long-treasured morceaux of newspaper poetry, of a 
tender and sentimental cast, which she had laid up with 
true Yankee economy, in case any one should ever be in 
a situation to need them. They related principally to the 
union of kindred hearts, and the joys of reciprocated feel- 
ing, and the pains of absence. Good Miss Ruey occasion- 
ally passed these to Mara, with glances full of meaning, 
which caused the poor old thing to resemble a sentimental 
goblin, keeping Sally Kittridge in a perfect hysterical tem- 
pest of suppressed laughter, and making it difficult for Mara 
to preserve the decencies of life toward her well-intending 
old friend. The trouble with poor Miss Ruey was that, 
while her body had grown old and crazy, her soul was just 
as juvenile as ever, — and a simple, juvenile soul disporting 
itself in a crazy, battered old body, is at great disadvantage. 
It was lucky for her, however, that she lived in the most 
sacred unconsciousness of the ludicrous effect of her little 
indulgences, and the pleasure she took in them was certainly 
of the most harmless kind. The world would be a far better 
and more enjoyable place than it is, if all people who are 
old and uncomely could find amusement as innocent and 
Christian-like as Miss Ruey’s inoffensive thread-case collec- 
tion of sentimental truisms. 

This quilting of which we speak was a solemn, festive 
occasion of the parish, held a week after Moses had sailed 
away ; and so piquant a morsel as a recent engagement 
could not, of course, fail to be served up for the company 
in every variety of garnishing which individual tastes might 
suggest. 

It became an ascertained fact, however, in the course of 
the evening festivities, that the minister was serenely appro- 
bative of the event ; that Captain Kittridge was at length 


356 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


brought to a sense of the errors of his way in supposing 
that Sally had ever cared a pin for Moses more than as a 
mutual friend and confidant ; and the great affair was set- 
tled without more ripples of discomposure than usually attend 
similar announcements in more refined society. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


357 


CHAPTER XXXI Y. 

The quilting broke up at the primitive hour of nine 
o’clock, at which, in early New England days, all social 
gatherings always dispersed. Captain Kittridge rowed his 
helpmeet, with Mara and Sally, across the Bay to the 
island. 

“ Come and stay with me to-night, Sally,” said Mara. 

“ I think Sally had best be at home,” said Mrs. Kittridge. 
“ There ’s no sense in girls talking all night.” 

“ There a’n’t sense in nothin’ else, mother,” said the Cap- 
tain. “ Next to sparkin’, which is the Christianist thing I 
knows on, comes gals’ talks ’bout their sparks, — they ’s as 
natural as crowsfoot and red columbines in the spring, and 
spring don’t come but once a year neither, — and so let ’em 
take the comfort on ’t. I warrant now, Polly, you ’ve laid 
awake nights and talked about me.” 

“ We ’ve all been foolish once,” said Mrs. Kittridge. 

u Well, mother, we want to be foolish too,” said Sally. 

“ Well, you and your father are too much for me,” said 
Mrs. Kittridge, plaintively ; “ you always get your own 
way.” 

“ How lucky that my way is always a good one ! ” said 
Sally. 

“ Well, you know, Sally, you are going to make the beer 
to-morrow,” still objected her mother. 

u Oh, yes ; that ’s another reason,” said Sally. “ Mara 


358 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


and I shall come home through the woods in the morning, 
and we can get whole apronfuls of young wintergreen, and 
besides, I know where there ’s a lot of sassafras root. We’ll 
dig it, won’t we, Mara ? ” 

“ Yes ; and I ’ll come down and help you brew,” said 
Mara. “ Don’t you remember the beer I made when Moses 
came home ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, I remember,” said the Captain, “ you sent us 
a couple of bottles.” 

“We can make better yet now,” said Mara. “ The 
wintergreen is young, and the green tips on the spruce 
boughs are so full of strength. Everything is lively and 
sunny now.” 

“ Yes, yes,” said the Captain, “ and I ’spect I know why 
things do look pretty lively to some folks, don’t they ? ” 

“ I don’t know what sort of work you ’ll make of the 
beer among you,” said Mrs. Kittridge ; “ but you must 
have it your own way.” 

Mrs. Kittridge, who never did anything else among her 
tea-drinking acquaintances but laud and magnify Sally’s 
good traits and domestic acquirements, felt constantly bound 
to keep up a faint show of controversy and authority in her 
dealings with her, — the fading remains of the strict gov- 
ernment of her childhood ; but it was, nevertheless, very 
perfectly understood, in a general way, that Sally was to 
do as she pleased ; and so, when the boat came to shore, 
she took the arm of Mara and started up toward the brown 
house. 

The air was soft and balmy, and though the moon by 
which the troth of Mara and Moses had been plighted had 
waned into the latest hours of the night, still a thousand 
stars were lying in twinkling brightness, reflected from the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 359 

• 

undulating waves all around them, and the tide, as it rose 
and fell, made a sound as gentle and soft as the respiration 
of a peaceful sleeper. 

“ Well, Mara,” said Sally, after an interval of silence, 
“ all has come out right. You see that it was you whom 
he loved. What a lucky thing for me that I am made so 
heartless, or T might not be as glad as I am.” 

“ You are not heartless, Sally,” said Mara ; “ it ’s the en- 
chanted princess asleep ; the right one has n’t come to waken 
her.” 

“ Maybe so,” said Sally, with her old light laugh. “ If 
I only were sure he would make you happy now, — half 
as happy as you deserve, — I ’d forgive him his share of 
this summer’s mischief. The fault was just half mine, you 
see, for I witched with him. I confess it. I have my own 
little spider-webs for these great lordly flies, and I like to 
hear them buzz.” 

“ Take care, Sally ; never do it again, or the spider-web 
may get round you,” said Mara. 

“ Never fear me,” said Sally. “ But, Mara, I wish I felt 
sure that Moses could make you happy. Do you really, 
now, when you think seriously, feel as if he would ? ” 

“ I never thought seriously about it,” said Mara ; “ but 
I know he needs me ; that I can do for him what no one 
else can. I have always felt all my life that he was to be 
mine ; that he was sent to me, ordained for me to care for 
and to love.” 

“ You are well mated,” said Sally. “ He wants to be 
loved very much, and you want to love. There ’s the ac- 
tive and passive voice, as they used to say at Miss Plu Ch- 
er’s. But yet in your natures you are opposite as any two 
could well be” 


360 


THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND. 


Mara felt that there was in these chance words of Sally 
more than she perceived. No one could feel as intensely 
as she could that the mind and heart so dear to her were 
yet, as to all that was most vital and real in her inner life, 
unsympathizing. To her the spiritual world was a reality ; 
God an ever-present consciousness ; and the line of this 
present life seemed so to melt and lose itself in the antici- 
pation of a future and brighter one, that it was impossible 
for her to speak intimately and not unconsciously to betray 
the fact To him there was only the life of this world ; 
there was no present God ; and from all thought of a future 
life he shrank with a shuddering aversion, as from some- 
thing ghastly and unnatural. She had realized this differ- 
ence more in the few days that followed her betrothal than 
all her life before, for now first the barrier of mutual con- 
straint and misunderstanding having melted away, each 
spoke with an abandon and unreserve which made the 
acquaintance more vitally intimate than ever it had been 
before. It was then that Mara felt that while her sympa- 
thies could follow him through all his plans and interests, 
there was a whole world of thought and feeling in her heart 
where his could not follow her ; and she asked herself, 
Would it be so always ? Must she walk at his side for- 
ever repressing the utterance of that which was most sacred 
and intimate, living in a nominal and external communion 
only ? How could it be that what was so lovely and clear 
in its reality to her, that which was to her as life-blood, 
that which was the vital air in which she lived and moved 
and had her being, could be absolutely nothing to him ? 
Was it really possible, as he said, that God had no existence 
for him except in a nominal cold belief ; that the spiritual 
world was to him only a land of pale shades and doubtful 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


361 


glooms, from which he shrank with dread, and the least 
allusion to which was distasteful ? and would this always be 
so ? and if so, could she be happy ? 

But Mara said the truth in saying that the question of 
personal happiness never entered her thoughts. She loved 
Moses in a way that made it necessary to her happiness to 
devote herself to him, to watch over and care for him ; and 
though she knew not how, she felt a sort of presentiment 
that it was through her that he must be brought into sym- 
pathy with a spiritual and immortal life. 

All this passed through Mara’s mind in the revery into 
which Sally’s last words threw her, as she sat on the door- 
sill and looked off into the starry distance and heard the 
weird murmur of the sea. 

“ How lonesome the sea at night always is,” said Sally. “ I 
declare, Mara, I don’t wonder you miss that creature, for, to 
tell the truth, / do a little bit. It was something, you know, 
to have somebody to come in, and to joke with, and to say 
how he liked one’s hair and one’s ribbons, and all that. I 
quite got up a friendship for Moses, so that I can feel how 
dull you must be ; ” and Sally gave a half sigh, and then 
whistled a tune as adroitly as a blackbird. 

“ Yes,” said Mara, “ we two girls down on this lonely 
island need some one to connect us with the great world ; 
and he was so full of life, and so certain and confident, he 
seemed to open a way before one out into life.” 

“Well, of course, while he is gone there will be plenty to 
jlo getting ready to be married,” said Sally. “ By the by, 
when I was over to Portland the other day, Maria Potter 
showed me a new pattern for a bed-quilt, the sweetest thing 
you can imagine, — it is called the morning star. There is 
16 


362 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


a great star in the centre, and little stars all around, — white 
on a blue ground. I mean to begin one for you.” 

“ I am going to begin spinning some very fine flax next 
week,” said Mara ; “ and have I shown you the new pattern 
I drew for a counterpane ? it is to be morning-glories, leaves 
and flowers, you know, — a pretty idea, is n’t it ? ” 

And so, the conversation falling from the region of the 
sentimental to the practical, the two girls went in and spent 
an hour in discussions so purely feminine that we will not 
enlighten the reader further therewith. Sally seemed to be 
investing all her energies in the preparation of the wedding 
outfit of her friend, about which she talked with a constant 
and restless activity, and for which she formed a thousand 
plans, and projected shopping tours to Portland, Brunswick, 
and even to Boston, — this last being about as far off* a ven- 
ture at that time as Paris now seems to a Boston belle. 

“ When you are married,” said Sally, “ you ’ll have to 
take me to live with you ; that creature sha’n’t have you all 
to himself. I hate men, they are so exorbitant, — they 
spoil all our playmates; and what shall I do when you are 
gone ? ” 

“You will go with Mr. — what’s his name?” said 
Mara. 

“Pshaw, I don’t know him. I shall be an old maid,” 
said Sally ; “ and really there is n’t much harm in that if 
one could have company, — if somebody or other would n’t 
marry all one’s friends, — that ’s lonesome,” she said, wink- 
ing a tear out of her black eyes and laughing. “ If I were 
only a young fellow now, Mara, I ’d have you myself, and 
that would be just the thing ; and I ’d shoot Moses, if he 
said a word ; and I ’d have money, and I ’d have honors, 
and I ’d carry you off* to Europe, and take you to Paris and 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


363 


Rome, and nobody knows where ; and we ’d live in peace, 
as the story-books say.” 

“ Come, Sally, how wild you are talking,” said Mara ; 
“ and the clock has just struck one ; let ’s try to go to sleep.” 

Sally put her face to Mara’s and kissed her, and Mara 
felt a moist spot on her cheek, — could it be a tear? 


864 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

Aunt Roxy and Aunt Ruey Toothacre lived in a little 
one-story gambrel-roofed cottage, on the side of Harpswell 
Bay, just at the head of the long cove which we have al- 
ready described. The windows on two sides commanded 
the beautiful bay and the opposite shores, and on the other 
they looked out into the dense forest, through whose deep 
shadows of white birch and pine the silver rise and fall of 
the sea daily revealed itself. 

The house itself was a miracle of neatness within, for the 
two thrifty sisters were worshippers of soap and sand, and 
these two tutelary deities had kept every board of the house- 
floor white and smooth, and also every table and bench and 
tub of household use. There was a sacred care over each 
article, however small and insignificant, which composed 
their slender household stock. The loss or breakage of one 
of them would have made a visible crack in the hearts of the 
worthy sisters, — for every plate, knife, fork, spoon, cup, or 
glass was as intimate with them, as instinct with home feel- 
ing, as if it had a soul ; each defect or spot had its history, 
and a cracked dish or article of furniture received as tender 
and considerate medical treatment as if it were capable of 
understanding and feeling the attention. 

It was now a warm, spicy day in June, — one of those 
which bring out the pineapple fragrance from the fir-shoots, 
and cause the spruce and hemlocks to exude a warm, resinous 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


365 


perfume. The two sisters, for a wonder, were having a day 
to themselves, free from the numerous calls of the vicinity 
for twelve miles round. The room in which they were sit- 
ting was bestrewn with fragments of dresses and bonnets, 
which w r ere being torn to pieces in a most wholesale way, 
with a view to a general rejuvenescence. A person of un- 
sympathetic temperament, and disposed to take sarcastic 
views of life, might perhaps wonder what possible object 
these two battered and weather-beaten old bodies proposed 
to themselves in this process, — whether Miss Roxy’s gaunt 
black-straw helmet, which she had worn defiantly all winter, 
was likely to receive much lustre from being pressed over 
and trimmed with an old green ribbon which that energetic 
female had colored black by a domestic recipe ; and whether 
Miss Roxy’s rusty bombazette would really seem to the 
world any fresher for being ripped, and washed, and turned, 
for the second or third time, and made over with every 
breadth in a different situation. Probably after a week of 
efficient labor, busily expended in bleaching, dyeing, pressing, 
sewing, and ripping, an unenlightened spectator, seeing them 
come into the meeting-house, would simply think, “ There 
are those two old frights with the same old things on they 
have worn these fifty years.” Happily the weird sisters 
were contentedly ignorant of any such remarks, for no duch- 
esses could have enjoyed a more quiet belief in their own 
social position, and their semiannual spring and fall reha- 
bilitation was therefore entered into with the most simple- 
hearted satisfaction. 

“I’m a-thinkin’, Roxy,” said Aunt Ruey, considerately 
turning and turning on her hand an old straw bonnet, on 
which were streaked all the marks of the former trimming in 
lighter lines, which revealed too clearly the effects of wind 


366 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


and weather, — “ I ’m a-thinkin’ whether or no this ’ere 
might n’t as well be dyed and done with it as try to bleach 
it out. I ’ve had it ten years last May, and it ’s kind o’ 
losin’ its freshness, you know. I don’t believe these ’ere 
streaks will bleach out.” 

“Never mind, Ruey,” said Miss Roxy, authoritatively, 
“ I ’m goin’ to do Mis’ Badger’s leg’orn, and it won’t cost 
nothin’ ; so hang your’n in the barrel along with it, — the 
same smoke ’ll do ’em both. Mis’ Badger she finds the 
brimstone, and next fall you can put it in the dye when we 
do the yarn.” 

“ That ar straw is a beautiful straw ! ” said Miss Ruey, in 
a plaintive tone, tenderly examining the battered old head- 
piece, — “I braided every stroke on ’t myself, and I don’t 
know as I could do it ag’in. My fingers a’n’t quite so lim- 
ber as they was ! I don’t think I shall put green ribbon on 
it ag’in ; ’cause green is such a color to ruin, if a body gets 
caught out in a shower ! There ’s these green streaks come 
that day I left my amberil at Captain Broad’s, and went to 
meetin’. Mis’ Broad she says to me, ‘ Aunt Ruey, it won’t 
rain.’ And says I to her, ‘ Well, Mis’ Broad, I ’ll try it ; 
though I never did leave my amberil at home but what it 
rained.’ And so I went, and sure enough it rained cats and 
dogs, and streaked my bonnet all up ; and them ar streaks 
won’t bleach out, I ’m feared.” 

“ How long is it Mis’ Badger has had that ar leg’orn ? ” 

“ Why, you know, the Cap’n he brought it home when he 
came from his voyage from Marseilles. That ar was when 
Phebe Ann was born, and she ’s fifteen year old. It was 
a most elegant thing when he brought it; but I think it 
kind o* led Mis’ Badger on to extravagant ways, — for get- 
tin’ new trim min’ spring and fall so uses up money as fast as 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


367 


new bonnets ; but Mis’ Badger ’s got the money, and she ’s 
got a right to use it if she pleases ; but if I ’d a-had new 
trimmin’s spring and fall, I should n’t a-put away what I 
have in the bank. 

“ Have you seen the straw Sally Kittridge is braidin’ for 
Mara Lincoln’s weddin’ bonnet ? ” said Miss Ruey. “ It ’s 
jist the finest thing ever you did see, — and the whitest. I 
was a-tellin’ Sally that I could do as well once myself, but 
my mantle was a-fallin’ on her. Sally don’t seem to act a 
bit like a dissip’inted gal. She is as chipper as she can be 
about Mara’s weddin’, and seems like she couldn’t do too 
much. But laws, everybody seems to want to be a-doin’ for 
her. Miss Emily was a-showin’ me a fine double damask 
table-cloth that she was goin’ to give her ; and Mis’ Pennel, 
she ’s been a-spinnin’ and layin’ up sheets and towels and 
table-cloths all her life, — and then she has all Naomi’s 
things. Mis’ Pennel was talkin’ to me the other day about 
bleachin’ ’em out cause they’d got yellow a-lyin’. I kind o* 
felt as if ’t was unlucky to be a-fittin’ out a bride with her 
dead mother’s things, but I did n’t like to say nothin’.” 

“ Ruey,” said Miss Roxy impressively, “ I ha’ n’t never 
had but jist one mind about Mara Lincoln’s weddin’, — it ’s 
to be, — but it won’t be the way people think. I ha’ n’t 
nussed and watched and sot up nights sixty years for 
nothin’. I can see beyond what most folks can, — her 
weddin’ garments is bought and paid for, and she ’ll wear 
’em, but she won’t be Moses Pennel’s wife, — now you see.” 

“ Why, whose wife will she be then ? ” said Miss Ruey ; 
“’cause that ar Mr. Adams is married. I saw it in the 
paper last week when I was up to Mis’ Badger’s.” 

Miss Roxy shut her lips with oracular sternness and 
went on with her sewing. 


368 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Who ’s that cornin’ in the back-door ? ” said Miss Ruey, 
as the sound of a footstep fell upon her ear. “ Bless me,” 
she added, as she started up to look, “ if folks a’n’t always 
nearest when you ’re talkin’ about ’em. Why, Mara ; you 
come down here and catched us in all our dirt ! Well now, 
we ’re glad to see you, if we be,” said Miss Ruey. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


369 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

It was in truth Mara herself who came and stood in the 
door-way. She appeared overwearied with her walk, for her 
cheeks had a vivid brightness unlike their usual tender pink. 
Her eyes had, too, a brilliancy almost painful to look upon. 
They seemed like ardent fires, in which the life was slowly 
burning away. 

“ Sit down, sit down, little Mara,” said Aunt Ruey. 
“ Why, how like a picture you look this mornin’, — one 
need n’t ask you how you do, — it ’s plain enough that you 
are pretty well.” 

“ Yes, I am, Aunt Ruey,” she answered, sinking into a 
chair ; “ only it is warm to-day, and the sun is so hot, that ’s 
all, I believe ; but I am very tired.” 

“ So you are now, poor thing,” said Miss Ruey. “ Roxy, 
where ’s my turkey -feather fan ? Oh, here ’t is ; there, take 
it, and fan you, child ; and maybe you ’ll have a glass of our 
spruce beer ? ” 

“ Thank you, Aunt Roxy. I brought you some young 
wintergreen,” said Mara, unrolling from her handkerchief a 
small knot of those fragrant leaves, which were wilted by 
the heat. 

“ Thank you, I ’m sure,” said Miss Ruey, in delight; “you 
always fetch something, Mara, — always would ever since 
you could toddle. Roxy and I was jist talkin’ about your 
weddin’. I s’pose you ’re gettin’ things well along down to 


370 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


your house. Well, here ’s the beer. I don’t hardly know 
whether you ’ll think it worked enough though. I set it 
Saturday afternoon, for all Mis’ Twitchel said it was wicked 
for beer to work Sundays,” said Miss Ruey, with a feeble 
cackle at her own joke. 

“ Thank you, Aunt Ruey, it is excellent, as your things 
always are. I was very thirsty.” 

“ I s’pose you hear from Moses pretty often now,” said 
Aunt Ruey. “ How kind o’ providential it happened about 
his getting that property ; he ’ll be a rich man now ; and 
Mara, you ’ll come to grandeur, won’t you ? Well, I don’t 
know anybody deserves it more, — I r’ally don’t. Mis* 
Badger was a-sayin’ so a-Sunday, and Cap’n Kittridge 
and all on ’em. I s’pose though we ’ve got to lose you, — 
you ’ll be goin’ off to Boston or New York, or somewhere.” 

“We can’t tell what may happen, Aunt Ruey,” said Mara, 
and there was a slight tremor in her voice as she spoke. 

Miss Roxy, who beyond the first salutations had taken no 
part in this conversation, had from time to time regarded 
Mara over the tops of her spectacles with looks of grave 
apprehension ; and Mara, looking up, now encountered one 
of these glances. 

“ Have you taken the dock and dandelion tea I told you 
about ? ” said the wise woman, rather abruptly. 

“ Yes, Aunt Roxy, I have taken them faithfully for two 
weeks past.” 

“ And do they seem to set you up any ? ” said Miss Roxy. 

“ No, I don’t think they do. Grandma thinks I ’m better, 
and grandpa, and I let them think so ; but Miss Roxy, can't 
you think of something else ? ” 

Miss Roxy laid aside the straw bonnet which she was 
ripping, and motioned Mara into the outer room, — the sink- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


371 


room, as the sisters called it. It was the scullery of their 
little establishment, — the place where all dish-washing and 
clothes-washing was generally performed, — but the boards 
of the floor were white as snow, and the place had the odor 
of neatness. The open door looked out pleasantly into the 
deep forest, where the waters of the cove, now at high tide, 
could be seen glittering through the trees. - Soft moving 
spots of sunlight fell, checkering the feathery ferns and small 
piney tribes of evergreen which ran in ruffling wreaths of 
green through the dry, brown matting of fallen pine needles. 
Birds were singing and calling to each other merrily from 
the green shadows of the forest, — everything had a sylvan 
fulness and freshness of life. There are moods of mind 
when the sight of the bloom and freshness of nature affects 
us painfully, like the want of sympathy in a dear friend. 
Mara had been all her days a child of the woods ; her deli- 
cate life had grown up in them like one of their own cool 
shaded flowers ; and there was not a moss, not a fern, not 
an up-springing thing that waved a leaf or threw forth a 
flower-bell, that was not a well-known friend to her ; she 
had watched for years its haunts, known the time of its com- 
ing and its going, studied its shy and veiled habits, and inter- 
woven with its life each year a portion of her own ; and now 
she looked out into the old mossy woods, with their waver- 
ing spots of sun and shadow, with a yearning pain, as if 
she wanted help or sympathy to come from their silent 
recesses. 

She sat down on the clean, scoured door-sill, and took off 
her straw hat. Her golden-brown hair was moist with the 
damps of fatigue, which made it curl and wave in darker 
little rings about her forehead ; her eyes, — those longing, 
wistful eyes, — had a deeper pathos of sadness than ever 


372 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


they had worn before ; and her delicate lips trembled with 
some strong suppressed emotion. 

“ Aunt Roxy,” she said suddenly, “ I must speak to some- 
body. I can’t go on and keep up without telling some one, 
and it had better be you, because you have skill and experi- 
ence, and can help me if anybody can. I ’ve been going on 
for six months now, taking this and taking that, and trying 
to get better, but it ’s of no use. Aunt Roxy, I feel my life 
going, — going just as steadily and as quietly every day as 
the sand goes out of your hour-glass. I want to live, — oh, 
I never wanted to live so much, and I can’t, — oh, I Icnow I 
can't. Can I now, — do you think I can ? ” 

Mara looked imploringly at Miss Roxy. The hard-vis- 
aged woman sat down on the wash-bench, and, covering her 
worn, stony visage with her checked apron, sobbed aloud. 

Mara was confounded. This implacably withered, sensi- 
ble, dry woman, beneficently impassive in sickness and sor- 
row, weeping ! — it was awful as if one of the Fates had 
laid down her fatal distaff* to weep. 

Mara sprung up impulsively and threw her arms round 
her neck. 

“Now don’t, Aunt Roxy, don’t. I did n’t think you would 
feel bad, or I would n’t have told you ; but oh, you don’t 
know how hard it is to keep such a secret all to one’s self. 
I have to make believe all the time that I am feeling well 
and getting better. I really say what is n’t true every day, 
because, poor grandmamma, how could I bear to see her 
distress ? and grandpapa, — oh, I wish people did n’t love 
me so ! Why cannot they let me go ? And oh, Aunt Roxy, 
I had a letter only yesterday, and he is so sure we shall be 
married this fall, — and I know it cannot be.” Mara’s voice 
gave way in sobs, and the two wept together, — the old grim 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


373 


gray woman holding the soft golden head against her breast 
with a convulsive grasp. “ Oh, Aunt Roxy, do you love me, 
too ? ” said Mara. “ I did n’t know you did.” 

“ Love ye, child ? ” said Miss Roxy ; “ yes, I love ye like 
my life. I a’n’t one that makes talk about things, but I do ; 
you come into my arms fust of anybody’s in this world, — 
and except poor little Hitty, I never loved nobody as I have 
you 

u Ah ! that was your sister, whose grave I have seen,” 
said Mara, speaking in a soothing, caressing tone, and put- 
ting her little thin hand against the grim, wasted cheek, 
which was now moist with tears. 

“ Jes’ so, child, she died when she was a year younger 
than you be ; she was not lost, for God took her. Poor 
Hitty ! her life jest dried up like a brook in August, — jest 
so. Well, she was hopefully pious, and it was better for 
her.” 

“ Did she go like me, Aunt Roxy ? ” said Mara. 

“ Well, yes, dear ; she did begin jest so, and I gave her 
everything I could think of ; and we had doctors for her far 
and near ; but ’t was n't to be, — that ’s all we could say ; 
she was called, and her time was come.” 

“ Well, now, Aunt Roxy,” said Mara, “ at any rate, it ’s a 
relief to speak out to some one. It ’s more than two months 
that I have felt every day more and more that there was no 
hope, — life has hung on me like a weight. I have had to 
make myself keep up, and make myself do everything, and 
no one knows how it ha§ tried me. I am so tired all the 
time, I could cry ; and yet when 1 go to bed nights I can’t 
sleep, I lie in such a hot, restless way ; and then before 
morning I am drenched with cold sweat, and feel so weak 
and wretched. I force myself to eat, and I force myself to 


374 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


talk and laugh, and it ’s all pretence ; and it wears me out, 
— it would be better if I stopped trying, — it would be 
better to give up and act as weak as I feel ; but how can I 
let them know ? ” 

“ My dear child,” said Aunt Roxy, “ the truth is the kind- 
est thing we can give folks in the end. When folks know 

jest where they are, why they can walk ; you ’ll all be sup- 

ported ; you must trust in the Lord. I have been more ’n 
forty years with sick rooms and dyin’ beds, and I never 
knew it fail that those that trusted in the Lord was brought 
through.” 

“ Oh, Aunt Roxy, it is so hard for me to give up, — to 
give up hoping to live. There were a good many years 

when I thought I should love to depart, — not that I was 

really unhappy, but I longed to go to heaven, though I knew 
it was selfish, when I knew how lonesome I should leave 
my friends. But now, oh, life has looked so bright ; I have 
clung to it so ; I do now. I lie awake nights and pray, and 
try to give it up and be resigned, and I can’t. Is it wicked?” 

“ Well, it ’s natur’ to want to live,” said Miss Roxy. 
“ Life is sweet, and in a gen’l way we was made to live. 
Don’t worry ; the Lord ’ll bring you right when His time 
comes. Folks is n’t always supported jest when they want 
to be, nor as they want to be ; but yet they ’re supported 
fust and last. Ef I was to tell you how as I has hope in 
your case, I should n’t be a-tellin’ you the truth. I has n’t 
much of any ; only all things is possible with God. If you 
could kind o’ give it all up and rest easy in his hands, and 
keep a-doin’ what you can, — why, while there ’s life there ’s 
hope, you know ; and if you are to be made well, you will 
be all the sooner.” 

“ Aunt Roxy, it ’s all right ; I know it ’s all right. God 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


375 


knows best ; He will do what is best ; I know that ; — but 
my heart bleeds , and is sore. And when I get his letters, — 
I got one yesterday, — it brings it all back again. Every- 
thing is going on so well ; he says he has done more than all 
he ever hoped ; his letters are full of jokes, — full of spirit. 
Ah, he little knows, — and how can I tell him ? ” 

“ Child, you need n’t yet. You can jest kind o’ prepare 
his mind a little.” 

“ Aunt Roxy, have you spoken of my case to any one, — 
have you told what you know of me ? ” 

“ No, child, I ha’ n’t said nothin’ more than that you 
was a little weakly now and then.” 

“ I have such -a color every afternoon,” said Mara. 
“ Grandpapa talks about my roses, and Captain Kittridge 
jokes me about growing so handsome ; nobody seems to 
realize how I feel. I have kept up with all the strength 
I had. I have tried to shake it off, and to feel that nothing 
was the matter, — really there is nothing much only this 
weakness. This morning I thought it would do me good to 
walk down here. I remember times when I could ramble 
whole days in the woods, but I was so tired before 1 got 
half way here that I had to stop a long while and rest. 
Aunt Roxy, if you would only tell grandpapa and grand- 
mamma just how things are, and what the danger is, and 
let them stop talking to me about wedding things, — for 
really and truly I am too unwell to keep up any longer.” 

“ Well, child, I will,” said Miss Roxy. “ Your grand- 
father will be supported, and hold you up, for he ’s one 
of the sort as has the secret of the Lord, — I remember 
him of old. Why, the day your father and mother was 
buried he stood up and sung old China, and his face was 
wonderful to see. He seemed to be standin’ with the world 


376 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


under his feet and* heaven opening. He *s a master Chris- 
tian, your grandfather is ; and now you jest go and lie down 
in the little bedroom, and rest you a bit, and by and by, in 
the cool of the afternoon, I ’ll walk along home with you.” 

Miss Roxy opened the door of a little room, whose white 
fringy window-curtains were blown inward by breezes from 
the blue sea, and laid the child down to rest on a clean sweet- 
smelling bed with as deft and tender care as if she were not 
a bony, hard-visaged, angular female, in a black mohair fri- 
sette. 

She stopped a moment wistfully before a little profile head, 
of a kind which resembles a black shadow on a white ground. 
“ That was Hitty ! ” she said. 

Mara had often seen in the graveyard a mound inscribed 
to this young person, and heard traditionally of a young and 
pretty sister of Miss Roxy who had died very many years 
before. But the grave was overgrown with blackberry-vines, 
and gray moss had grown into the crevices of the slab which 
served for a tombstone, and never before that day had she 
heard Miss Roxy speak of her. Miss Roxy took down the 
little black object and handed it to Mara. “ You can’t tell 
much by that, but she was a most beautiful creatur’. Well, 
it ’s all best as it is.” Mara saw nothing but a little black 
shadow cast on white paper, yet she was affected by the per- 
ception how bright, how beautiful, was the image in the 
memory of that seemingly stern, commonplace woman, and 
how of all that in her mind’s eye she saw and remembered, 
she could find no outward witness but this black block. “ So 
some day my friends will speak of me as a distant shadow,” 
she said, as with a sigh she turned her head on the pillow. 

Miss Roxy shut the door gently as she went out, and be- 
trayed the unwonted rush of softer feelings which had come 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


377 


over her only by being more dictatorial and commanding than 
usual in her treatment of her sister, who was sitting in fidg- 
ety curiosity to know what could have been the subject of 
the private conference. 

“ I s’pose Mara wanted to get some advice about makin’ 
up her weddin’ things,” said Miss Ruey, with a sort of hum- 
ble quiver, as Miss Roxy began ripping and tearing fiercely 
at her old straw bonnet, as if she really purposed its utter 
and immediate demolition. 

“ No she did n’t, neither,” said Miss Roxy fiercely. “ I 
declare, Ruey, you are silly ; your head is always full of 
weddin’s, weddin’s, weddin’s — nothin’ else — from mornin’ 
till night, and night till mornin’. I tell you there ’s other 
things have got to be thought of in this world besides wed- 
din’ clothes, and it would be well, if people would think more 
o’ gettin’ their weddin’ garments ready for the kingdom of 
heaven. That ’s what Mara ’s got to think of ; for, mark my 
words, Ruey, there is no marryin’ and givin’ in marriage for 
her in this world.” 

“ Why, bless me, Roxy, now you don’t say so ! ” said Miss 
Ruey ; “ why I knew she was kind o’ weakly and ailin’, 
but ” — 

“ Kind o’ weakly and ailin’ ! ” said Miss Roxy, taking up 
Miss Ruey’s words in a tone of high disgust, “ I should rather 
think she was ; and more ’n that, too : she ’s marked for 
death, and that before long, too. It may be that Moses 
Pennel ’ll never see her again — he never half knew what 
she was worth — maybe he ’ll know when he ’s lost her, 
that ’s one comfort ! ” 

“ But,” said Miss Ruey, “ everybody has been a-sayin’ 
what a beautiful color she was a-gettin’ in her cheeks.” 

“ Color in her cheeks ! ” snorted Miss Roxy ; “ so does a 


378 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


rock-maple get color in September and turn all scarlet, and 
what for ? why, the frost has been at it, and its time is out. 
That ’s what your bright colors stand for. Ha’ n’t you 
noticed that little gravestone cough, jest the faintest in the 
world, and it don’t come from a cold, and it hangs on. I tell 
you you can’t cheat me, she ’s goin’ jest as Mehitabel went, 
jest as Sally Ann Smith went, jest as Louisa Pearson went. 
I could count now on my fingers twenty girls that have gone 
that way. Nobody saw' ’em goin’ till they was gone.” 

“ Well, now, I don’t think the old folks have the least idea 
on ’t,” said Miss Ruey. “ Only last Saturday Mis’ Pennel 
was a-talkin’ to me about the sheets and table-cloths she ’s 
got out a-bleachin’ ; and she said that the w'eddin’ dress was 
to be made over to Mis’ Mosely’s in Portland, ’cause Moses 
he ’s so particular about havin’ things genteel.” 

“ Well, Master Moses ’ll jest have to give up his particular 
notions,” said Miss Roxy, “ and come down in the dust, 
like all the rest on us, when the Lord sends an east wind 
and withers our gourds. Moses Pennel ’s one of the sort 
that expects to drive all before him with the strong arm, and 
sech has to learn that things a’n’t to go as they please in the 
Lord’s world. Sech alw r ays has to come to spots that they 
can’t get over nor under nor round, to have their own way, 
but jest has to give right up square.” 

“ Well, Roxy,” said Miss Ruey, “ how does the poor 
little thing take it ? Has she got reconciled ? ” 

“ Reconciled ! Ruey, how you do ask questions ! ” said 
Miss Roxy, fiercely pulling a bandanna silk handkerchief out 
of her pocket, with which she wdped her eyes in a defiant 
manner. “ Reconciled ! It ’s easy enough to talk , Ruey, 
but how w'ould you like it, when everything was goin’ 
6mooth and playin’ into your hands, and all the world smooth 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


379 


and shiny, to be took short up ? I guess you would n’t be 
reconciled. That ’s what I guess.” 

“ Dear me, Roxy, who said I should ? ” said Miss Ruey. 
“ I wa’ n’t blamin’ the poor child, not a grain.” 

“Well, who said you was, Ruey?” answered Miss Roxy 
in the same high key. 

“ You need n’t take my head off,” said Aunt Ruey, roused 
as much as her adipose, comfortable nature could be. “ You 
’ve been a-talkin’ at me ever since you came in from the 
sink-room, as if I was to blame ; and snappin’ at me as if I 
had n’t a right to ask civil questions ; and I won’t stan’ it,” 
said Miss Ruey. “ And while I ’m about it, I ’ll say that 
you always have snubbed me and contradicted and ordered 
me round. I won’t bear it no longer.” 

“ Come, Ruey, don’t make a fool of yourself at your time 
of life,” said Miss Roxy. “ Things is bad enough in this 
world without two lone sisters and church-members turnin’ 
agin each other. You must take me as I am, Ruey ; my 
bark ’s worse than my bite, as you know.” 

Miss Ruey sank back pacified into her usual state of 
pillowy dependence — it was so much easier to be good- 
natured than to contend. As for Miss Roxy — if you have 
ever carefully examined a chestnut-burr you will remember 
that, hard as it is to handle, no plush of downiest texture 
can exceed the satin smoothness of the fibres which line its 
heart. There are a class of people in New England who 
betray the uprising of the softer feelings of our nature only 
by an increase of outward asperity — a sort of bashfulness 
and shyness leaves- them no power of expression for these 
unwonted guests of the heart — they hurry them into inner 
chambers and slam the doors upon them, as if they were 
vexed at their appearance. 


380 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


Now if poor Miss Roxy had been like you, my dear 
young lady — if her soul had been encased in a round, rosy, 
and comely body, and looked out of tender blue eyes shaded 
by golden hair, probably the grief and love she felt would 
have shown themselves only in bursts of feeling most grace- 
ful to see, and engaging the sympathy of all ; but this same 
soul, imprisoned in a dry, angular body, stiff and old, and 
looking out under beetling eyebrows, over withered high 
cheek-bones, could only utter itself by a passionate tempest 
— unlovely utterance of a lovely impulse — dear only to 
Him who sees with a Father’s heart the real beauty of 
spirits. It is our firm faith that bright solemn angels in 
celestial watchings were frequent guests in the homely room 
of the two sisters, and that passing by all accidents of age 
and poverty, withered skins, bony features, and grotesque 
movements, and shabby clothing, they saw more real beauty 
there than in many a scented boudoir where seeming angels 
smile in lace and satin. 

“ Ruey,” said Miss Roxy, in a more composed voice, 
while her hard, bony hands still trembled with excitement, 
“ this ’ere ’s been on my mind a good while. I ha’ n’t said 
nothin’ to nobody, but I ’ve seen it a-comin’. I always 
thought that child wa’n’t for a long life. Lives is run in 
different lengths, and nobody can say what ’s the matter with 
some folks, only that their thread ’s run out ; there ’s more on 
one spool and less on another. I thought, when we laid 
Hitty in the grave, that I should n’t never set my heart on 
nothin’ else — but we can’t jest say we will or we won’t. 
Ef we are to be sorely afflicted at any time, the Lord lets 
us set our hearts before we know it. This ’ere ’s a great 
affliction to me, Ruey, but I must jest shoulder my cross and 
go through with it. I’m goin’ down to-night to tell the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


381 


old folks, and to make arrangements so that the poor little 
lamb may have the care she needs. She ’s been a-keepin* 
up so long, ’cause she dreaded to let ’em know, but this ’ere 
has got to be looked right in the face, and I hope there ’ll be 
grace given to do it.” 


382 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Meanwhile Mara had been lying in the passive calm of 
fatigue and exhaustion, her eyes fixed on the window, where, 
as the white curtain drew inward, she could catch glimpses 
of the bay. Gradually her eyelids fell, and she dropped 
into that kind of half-waking doze, when the outer senses 
are at rest, and the mind is all the more calm and clear for 
their repose. In such hours a spiritual clairvoyance often 
seems to lift for a while the whole stifling cloud that lies like 
a confusing mist over the problem of life, and the soul has 
sudden glimpses of things unutterable which lie beyond. 
Then the narrow straits that look so full of rocks and quick- 
sands, widen into a broad, clear passage, and one after an- 
other, rosy with a celestial dawn, and ringing silver bells of 
gladness, the isles of the blessed lift themselves up on the 
horizon, and the soul is flooded with an atmosphere of light 
and joy. As the burden of Christian fell off at the cross and 
was lost in the sepulchre, so in these hours of celestial vision 
the whole weight of life’s anguish is lifted, and passes away 
like a dream ; and the soul, seeing the boundless ocean of 
Divine love, wherein all human hopes and joys and sorrows 
lie so tenderly upholden, comes and casts the one little drop 
of its personal will and personal existence with gladness into 
that Fatherly depth. Henceforth, with it, God and Saviour 
is no more word of mine and thine, for in that hour the child 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


383 


of earth feels himself heir of all things — “ Ah things are 
yours, and ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.” 

******* 

M The child is asleep,” said Miss Roxy, as she stole on 
tiptoe into the room when their noon meal was prepared. 
A plate and knife had been laid for her, and they had 
placed for her a tumbler of quaint old engraved glass, re- 
puted to have been brought over from foreign parts, and 
which had been given to Miss Roxy as her share in the 
effects of the mysterious Mr. Swadkins. Tea also was 
served in some egg-like India china cups, which saw the 
light only on the most high and festive occasions. 

“ Had n’t you better wake her ? ” said Miss Ruey, “ a cup 
of hot tea would do her so much good.” 

Miss Ruey could conceive of few sorrows or ailments 
which would not be materially better for a cup of hot tea. 
If not the very elixir of life, it was indeed the next thing 
to it. 

“ Well,” said Miss Roxy, after laying her hand for a 
moment with great gentleness on that of the sleeping girl, 
“ she don’t wake easy, and she ’s tired ; and she seems to be 
enjoying it so. The Bible says, ‘ He giveth his beloved 
sleep,’ and I won’t interfere. I ’ve seen more good come of 
sleep than most things in my nursin’ experience,” said Miss 
Roxy, and she shut the door gently, and the two sisters sat 
down to their noontide meal. 

“ How long the child does sleep ! ” said Miss Ruey as the 
old clock struck four. 

“ It was too much for her, this walk down here,” said 
Aunt Roxy. “ She ’s been doin’ too much for a long time. 
I ’m a-goin’ to put an end to that. Well, nobody need n’t 
cay Mara ha’ n’t got resolution. I never see a little thing 


384 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


have more. She always did have, when she w r as the leastest 
little thing. She was always quiet and white and still, but 
she did whatever she sot out to.” 

At this moment, to their surprise, the door opened, and 
Mara came in, and both sisters were struck with a change 
that had passed over her. It was more than the result of 
mere physical repose. Not only had every sign of weari- 
ness and bodily languor vanished, but there was about her 
an air of solemn serenity and high repose that made her 
seem, as Miss Ruey afterwards said, “ like an angel jest 
walked out of the big Bible.” 

“ Why, dear child, how you have slept, and how bright 
and rested you look,” said Miss Ruey. 

“ I am rested,” said Mara ; “ oh how much ! And happy,” 
she added, laying her little hand on Miss Roxy’s shoulder. 
“ I thank you, dear friend, for all your kindness to me. I 
am sorry I made you feel so sadly ; but now you must n’t 
feel so any more, for all is well — yes, all is well. I see 
now that it is so. I have passed beyond sorrow — yes, 
forever.” 

Soft-hearted Miss Ruey here broke into audible sobbing, 
hiding her face in . her hands, and looking like a tumbled 
heap of old faded calico in a state of convulsion. 

“ Dear Aunt Ruey, you must n’t,” said Mara, with a voice 
of gentle authority. “We mustn’t any of us feel so any 
more. There is no harm done — no real evil is coming — 
only a good which we do not understand. I am perfectly 
satisfied — perfectly at rest now. I was foolish and weak to 
feel as I did this morning, but I shall not feel so any more. 
I shall comfort you all. Is it anything so dreadful for me 
to go to heaven ? How little while it will be before you all 
come to me ! Oh, how little , little while ! ” 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


385 


u I told you, Mara, that you ’d be supported in the Lord’s 
time,” said Miss Roxy, who watched her with an air of 
grave and solemn attention. “ First and last, folks allers is 
supported ; but sometimes there is a long wrestlin’. The 
Lord ’s give you the victory early.” 

“ Victory ! ” said the girl, speaking as in a deep muse, 
and with a mysterious brightness in her eyes ; " yes, that is 
the word — it is a victory — no other word expresses it. 
Come, Aunt Roxy, we will go home. I am not afraid now 
to tell grandpapa and grandmamma. God will care for 
them ; He will wipe away all tears.” 

“ Well, though, you mus’ n’t think of goin’ till you ’ve had 
a cup of tea,” said Aunt Ruey, wiping her eyes. “ I ’ve 
kep’ the teapot hot by the fire, and you must eat a little 
somethin’, for it ’s long past dinner-time.” 

“ Is it ? ” said Mara. “ I had no idea I had slept so long 
— how thoughtful and kind you are ! ” 

“I do wish I could only do more for you,” said Miss 
Ruey. “ I don’t seem to get reconciled no ways ; it seems 
dreffle hard — dreffle; but I’m glad you can feel so;” and 
the good old soul proceeded to press upon the child not 
only the tea, which she drank with feverish relish, but 
every hoarded dainty which their limited house-keeping 
commanded. 

It was toward sunset before Miss Roxy and Mara started 
on their walk homeward. Their way lay over the high 
stony ridge which forms the central part of the island. On 
one side, through the pines, they looked out into the bound- 
less blue of the ocean, and on the other caught glimpses of 
Harpswell Bay as it lay glorified in the evening light. The 
fresh cool breeze blowing landward brought with it an invig- 
orating influence, which Mara felt through all her feverish 
17 


386 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


frame. She walked with an energy to which she had long 
been a stranger. She said little, but there was a sweetness, 
a repose in her manner contrasting singularly with the pas- 
sionate melancholy which she had that morning expressed. 

Miss Roxy did not interrupt her meditations. The na- 
ture of her profession had rendered her familiar with all the 
changing mental and physical phenomena that attend the de- 
velopment of disease and the gradual loosening of the silver 
cords of a present life. Certain well-understood phrases 
everywhere current among the mass of the people in New 
England, strikingly tell of the deep foundations of religious 
earnestness on which its daily life is built. “ A triumphant 
death ” was a matter often casually spoken of among the 
records of the neighborhood ; and Miss Roxy felt that there 
was a vague and solemn charm about its approach. Yet the 
soul of the gray, dry woman was hot within her, for the con- 
versation of the morning had probed depths in her own 
nature of whose existence she had never before been so 
conscious. The roughest and most matter-of-fact minds 
have a craving for the ideal somewhere ; and often this 
craving, forbidden by uncomeliness and ungenial surround- 
ings from having any personal history of its own, attaches 
itself to the fortune of some other one in a kind of strange 
disinterestedness. Some one young and beautiful is to live 
the life denied to them — to be the poem and the romance ; 
it is the young mistress of the poor black slave — the pretty 
sister of the homely old spinster — or the clever son of the 
consciously ill-educated father. Something of this uncon- 
scious personal investment had there been on the part of 
Miss Roxy in the nursling whose singular loveliness she 
had watched for so many years, and on whose fair virgin 
orb she had marked the growing shadow of a fatal eclipse ; 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


387 


and as she saw her glowing and serene, with that peculiar 
brightness that she felt came from no earthly presence or in- 
fluence, she could scarcely keep the tears from her honest 
gray eyes. 

When they arrived at the door of the house, Zephaniah 
Pennel was sitting in it, looking toward the sunset. 

“Why, reely,” he said, “Miss Roxy, we thought you 
must a-run away with Mara ; she ’s been gone a’most all 
day.” 

“ I expect she ’s had enough to talk with Aunt Roxy 
about,” said Mrs. Pennel. “ Girls goin’ to get married have 
a deal to talk about, what with patterns and contrivin’ and 
makin’ up. But come in, Miss Roxy ; we ’re glad to see 
you.” 

Mara turned to Miss Roxy, and gave her a look of pe- 
culiar meaning. “Aunt Roxy,” she said, “you must tell 
them what we have been talking about to-day ; ” and then 
she went up to her room and shut the door. 

Miss Roxy accomplished her task with a matter-of-fact 
distinctness to which her business-like habits of dealing with 
sickness and death had accustomed her, yet with a sympa- 
thetic tremor in her voice which softened the hard directness 
of her words. “ You can take her over to Portland, if you 
say so, and get Dr. Wilson’s opinion,” she said, in conclusion. 
“ It ’s best to have all done that can be, though in my mind 
the case is decided.” 

The silence that fell between the three was broken at last 
by the sound of a light footstep descending the stairs, and 
Mara entered among them. 

She came forward and threw her arms round Mrs. Pen- 
nel’s neck, and kissed her; and thep turning, she nestled 
down in the arms of her old grandfather, as she had often 


388 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


done in the old days of childhood, and laid her hand upon 
his shoulder. There was no sound for a few moments but 
one of suppressed weeping ; but she did not weep — she lay 
with bright calm eyes, as if looking upon some celestial 
vision. 

“ It is not so very sad,” she said at last, in a gentle voice, 
“ that I should go there ; you are going, too, and grandmam- 
ma ; we are all going ; and we shall be forever with the 
Lord. Think of it ! think of it ! ” 

Many were the words spoken in that strange communing ; 
and before Miss Roxy went away, a calmness of solemn rest 
had settled down on all. The old family Bible was brought 
forth, and Zephaniah Pennel read from it those strange 
words of strong consolation, which take the sting from death 
and the victory from the grave : — 

“ And I heard a great voice out of heaven, ‘ Behold the 
tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, 
and they shall be his people ; and God himself shall be with 
them and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears 
from their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither 
sorrow nor crying, for the former things are passed away/ ” 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


389 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

As Miss Roxy was leaving the dwelling of the Pennels, 
she met Sally Kittridge coming toward the house, laughing 
and singing, as was her wont. She raised her long lean 
forefinger with a gesture of warning. 

“ What ’s the matter now, Aunt Roxy ? You look as 
solemn as a hearse.” 

“ None o’ your jokin’ now, Mis3 Sally ; there is such a 
thing as serious things in this ’ere world of our’n, for all you 
girls never seems to know it.” 

“ What is the matter, Aunt Roxy ? — has anything hap- 
pened ? — is anything the matter with Mara ? ” 

“ Matter enough, /’ve known it a long time,” said Miss 
Roxy. “ She ’s been goin’ down for three months now ; and 
she ’s got that on her that will carry her off before the 
year’s out.” 

“ Pshaw, Aunt Roxy ! how lugubriously you old nurses 
always talk ! I hope now you hav’ n’t been filling Mara’s 
head with any such notions — people can be frightened into 
anything.” 

“ Sally Kittridge, don’t be a-talkin’ of what you don’t 
know nothin’ about ! It stands to reason that a body that 
was bearin’ the heat and burden of the day long before you 
was born or thought on in this world, should know a thing 
or two more ’n you. Why, I ’ve laid you on your stomach 
and trotted you to trot up the wind many a day, and I was 


390 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


pretty experienced then, and it a’n’t likely that I ’m a-goin’ 
to take sa’ce from you. Mara Pennel is a gal as has every 
bit and grain as much resolution and ambition as you have, 
for all you flap your wings and crow so much louder, and 
she ’s one of the close-mouthed sort, that don’t make no 
talk, and she ’s been a-bearin’ up and bearin’ up, and cornin’ 
to me on the sly for strengthenin’ things. She ’s took 
camomile and orange-peel, and snake-root and boneset, and 
dash-root and dandelion — and there ha’ n’t nothin’ done her 
no good. She told me to-day she could n’t keep up no 
longer, and I ’ve been a-tellin’ Mis’ Pennel and her gran- 
’ther. I tell you it has been a solemn time ; and if you ’re 
goin’ in, don’t go in with none o’ your light triflin’ ways, 
’cause ‘ as vinegar upon nitre is he that singeth songs on a 
heavy heart,’ the Scriptur’ says.” 

“ Oh, Miss Roxy, do tell me truly ? ” said Sally, much 
moved. “ What do you think is the matter with Mara ? 
I ’ve noticed myself that she got tired easy, and that she 
was short-breathed — but she seemed so cheerful. Can 
anything really be the matter ? ” 

“ It ’s consumption, Sally Kittridge,” said Miss Roxy, 
“ neither more nor less ; that ar is the long and the short. 
They ’re going to take her over to Portland to see Dr. 
Wilson — it won’t do no harm, and it won’t do no good.” 

“ You seem to be determined she shall die,” said Sally in 
a tone of pique. 

“ Determined, am I ? Is it I that determines that the 
maple leaves shall fall next October ? Yet I know they will 
— folks can’t help knowin’ what they know, and shuttin’ 
one’s eyes won’t alter one’s road. I s’pose you think ’cause 
you ’re young and middlin’ good-lookin’ that you have feel- 
in’s and I has n’t — well, you ’re mistaken, that ’s all. I 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


391 


don’t believe th^ere *s one person in the world that would go 
farther or do more to save Mara Pennel than I would, — 
and yet I ’ve been in the world long enough to see that 
livin’ a’n’t no great shakes neither. Ef one is hopefully 
prepared in the days of their youth, why they escape a 
good deal, ef they get took cross-lots into heaven.” 

Sally turned away thoughtfully into the house ; there 
was no one in the kitchen — and the tick of the old clock 
sounded lonely and sepulchral. She went up-stairs to Mara’s 
room ; the door was ajar. Mara was sitting at the open win- 
dow that looked forth toward the ocean, busily engaged in 
writing. The glow of evening shone on the golden waves 
of her hair, and tinged the pearly outline of her cheek. 
Sally noticed the translucent clearness of her complexion, 
and the deep burning color and the transparency of the 
little hands, which seemed as if they might transmit the 
light like Sevres porcelain. She was writing with an ex- 
pression of tender calm, and sometimes stopping to consult 
an open letter that Sally knew came from Moses. 

So fair and sweet and serene she looked that a painter 
might have chosen her for an embodiment of twilight, and 
one might not be surprised to see a clear star shining out 
over her forehead. Yet in the tender serenity of the face 
there dwelt a pathos of expression that spoke of struggles 
and sufferings past, like the traces of tears on the face of a 
restful infant that has grieved itself to sleep. 

Sally came softly in on tiptoe, threw her arms around her, 
and kissed her, with a half laugh, then bursting into tears, 
sobbed upon her shoulder. 

“ Dear Sally, what is the matter ? ” said Mara, looking up. 

“ Oh, Mara, I just met Miss Roxy, and she told me ” — 

Sally only sobbed passionately. 


392 


THE PEAEL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“It is very sad to make all one’s friends so unhappy,” 
said Mara, in a soothing voice, stroking Sally’s hair. “ You 
don’t know how much I have suffered dreading it. Sally, it 
is a long time since I began to expect and dread and fear. 
My time of anguish was then — then when I first felt that 
it could be possible that I should not live after all. There 
was a long time I dared not even think of it ; I could not 
even tell such a fear to myself ; and I did far more than I 
felt able to do to convince myself that I was not weak and 
failing. I have been often to Miss Roxy, and once, when 
nobody knew it, I went to a doctor in Brunswick, but 
then I was afraid to tell him half, lest he should say 
something about me, and it should get out ; and so I 
went on getting worse and worse, and feeling every day 
as if I could not keep up, and yet afraid to lie down for fear 
grandmamma would suspect me. But this morning it was 
pleasant and bright, and something came over me that said 
I must tell somebody, and so, as it was cool and pleasant, I 
walked up to Aunt Roxy’s and told her. I thought, you 
know, that she knew the n^ost, and would feel it the least ; 
but oh, Sally, she has such a feeling heart, and loves me so ; 
it is strange she should.” 

“ Is it ? ” said Sally, tightening her clasp around Mara’s 
neck ; and then with a hysterical shadow of gayety she said, 
“ I suppose you think that you are such a hobgoblin that 
nobody could be expected to do that. After all, though, I 
should have as soon expected roses to bloom in a juniper 
clump as love from Aunt Roxy.” 

“Well, she does love me,” said Mara. “No mother could 
be kinder. Poor thing, she really sobbed and cried when I 
told her. I was very tired, and she told me she would take 
care of me, and tell grandpapa and grandmamma, — that 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


393 


had been lying on my heart as such a dreadful thing to do, 
— and she laid me down to rest on her bed, and spoke so lov- 
ingly to me ! I wish you could have seen her. And while 
I lay there, I fell into a strange, sweet sort of rest. I can’t 
describe it ; but since then everything has been changed. I 
wish I could tell any one how I saw things then.” 

“ Do try to tell me, Mara,” said Sally, “ for I need com- 
fort too, if there is any to be had.” 

“ Well, then, I lay on the bed, and the wind drew in from 
the sea and just lifted the window-curtain, and I could see 
the sea shining and hear the waves making a pleasant little 
dash, and then my head seemed to swim. I thought I was 
walking out by the pleasant shore, and everything seemed 
so strangely beautiful, and grandpapa and grandmamma 
were there, and Moses had come home, and you were 
there, and we were all so happy. And then I felt a sort 
of strange sense that something was coming — some great 
trial or affliction — and I groaned and clung to Moses, and 
asked him to put his arm around me and hold me. 

“ Then it seemed to be not b.y our sea-shore that this was 
happening, but by the Sea of Galilee, just as it tells about it 
in the Bible, and there were fishermen mending their nets, 
and men sitting counting their money, and I saw Jesus come 
walking along, and heard him say to this one and that one, 
< Leave all and follow me/ and it seemed that the moment 
he spoke they did it, and then he came to me, and I felt his 
eyes in my very soul, and he said, ‘ Wilt thou leave all and 
follow me?’ I cannot tell now what a pain I felt — what 
an anguish. I wanted to leave all, but my heart felt as if it 
were tied and woven with a thousand threads, and while I 
waited he seemed to fade away, and I found myself then 
alone and unhappy, wishing that I could, and mourning that 
17 * 


394 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


I had not ; and then something shone out warm like the 
sun, and I looked up, and he stood there looking pitifully, 
and he said again just as he did before, ‘ Wilt thou leave all 
and follow me ? ’ Every word was so gentle and full of 
pity, and I looked into his eyes and could not look away ; 
they drew me, they warmed me, and I felt a strange, won- 
derful sense of his greatness and sweetness. It seemed as 
if I felt within me cord after cord breaking, I felt so free, 
so happy ; and I said, 1 1 will, I will, with all my heart ; * 
and I woke then, so happy, so sure of God’s love. 

“ I saw so clearly how his love is in everything, and these 
words came into my mind as if an angel had spoken them, 

‘ God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.’ Since then 
I cannot be unhappy. I was so myself only this morning, and 
now I wonder that any one can have a grief when God is 
so loving and good, and cares so sweetly for us all. Why, 
Sally, if I could see Christ and hear Him speak, I could not 
be more certain that he will make this sorrow such a bless- 
ing to us all that we shall never be able to thank him enough 

o o 

for it.” 

“ Oh Mara,” said Sally, sighing deeply, while her cheek 
was wet with tears, “ it is beautiful to hear you talk ; but 
there is one that I am sure will not and cannot feel so.” 

“ God will care for him,” said Mara ; “ oh, I am sure of 
it ; He is love itself, and He values his love in us, and He 
never, never would have brought such a trial, if it had not 
been the true and only way to our best good. We shall not 
shed one needless tear. Yes, if God loved us so that He 
spared not his own Son, he will surely give us all the good 
here that we possibly can have without risking our eternal 
happiness.” 

“ You are writing to Moses, now ? ” said Sally. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S iSLAND. 


395 


“ Yes, I am answering his letter ; it is so full of spirit 
and life and hope — but all hope in this world — all , all 
earthly — as much as if there was no God and no world to 
come. Sally, perhaps our Father saw that I could not have 
strength to live with him and keep my faith. I should be 
drawn by him earthward instead of drawing him heaven- 
ward; and so this is in mercy to us both.” 

“ And are you telling him the whole truth, Mara ? ” 

“ Not all, no,” said Mara ; “ he could not bear it at once. 
I only tell him that my health is failing, and that my friends 
are seriously alarmed, and then I speak as if it were doubt- 
ful, in my mind, what the result might be.” 

“ I don’t think you can make him feel as you do. Moses 
Pennel has a tremendous will, and he never yielded to any 
one. You bend, Mara, like the little blue harebells, and so 
the storm goes over you ; but he will stand up against it, 
and it will wrench and shatter him. I am afraid, instead of 
making him better, it will only make him bitter and rebel- 
lious.” 

“He has a Father in heaven who knows how to care for 
him,” said Mara. “ I am persuaded — I feel certain that 
he will be blessed in the end ; not perhaps in the time and 
way I should have chosen, but in the end. I have always 
felt that he was mine ever since he came a little shipwrecked 
boy to me — a little girl. And now I have given him up to 
his Saviour and my Saviour — to his God and my God — 
and I am perfectly at peace. All will be well.” 

Mara spoke with a look of such solemn, bright assurance 
as made her, in the dusky, golden twilight, seem like some 
serene angel sent down to comfort, rather than a hapless 
mortal just wrenched from life and hope. 

Sally rose up and kissed her silently. “ Mara,” she said. 


396 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ I shall come to-morrow to see what I can do for you. I 
will not interrupt you now. Good-by, dear.” 

There are no doubt many, who have followed this history 
so long as it danced like a gay little boat over sunny waters, 
and who would have followed it gayly to the end, had it 
closed with ringing of marriage-bells, who turn from it in- 
dignantly, when they see that its course runs through the dark 
valley. This, they say, is an imposition — a trick upon our 
feelings. We want to read only stories which end in joy 
and prosperity. 

But have we then settled it in our own mind that there is 
no such thing as a fortunate issue in a history which does not 
terminate in the way of earthly success and good fortune ? 
Are we Christians or heathen ? It is now eighteen cen- 
turies since, as we hold, the “ highly favored among women ” 
was pronounced to be one whose earthly hopes were all cut 
off in the blossom, — whose noblest and dearest in the morn- 
ing of his days went down into the shadows of death. 

Was Mary the highly-favored among women, and was 
Jesus indeed the blessed, — or was the angel mistaken ? If 
they were these, if we are Christians, it ought to be a settled 
and established habit of our souls to regard something else 
as prosperity than worldly success and happy marriages. 
That life is a success which, like the life of Jesus, in its be- 
ginning, middle, and close, has borne a perfect witness to the 
truth and the highest form of truth. It is true that God 
has given to us, and inwoven in our nature a desire for a 
perfection and completeness made manifest to our senses in 
this mortal life. To see the daughter bloom into youth and 
womanhood, the son into manhood, to see them marry and 
become themselves parents, and gradually ripen and de- 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


397 


velop in the maturities of middle life, gradually wear into 
a sunny autumn, and so be gathered in fulness of time to 
their fathers, — such, one says, is the programme which 
God has made us to desire ; such the ideal of happiness 
which he has interwoven with our nerves, and for which our 
heart and our flesh crieth out ; to which every stroke of a 
knell is a violence, and every thought of an early death is 
an abhorrence. 

But the life of Christ and his mother sets the foot on this 
lower ideal of happiness, and teaches us that there is some- 
thing higher. His ministry began with declaring, “ Blessed 
are they that mourn.” It has been well said that prosperity 
was the blessing of the Old Testament, and adversity of the 
New. Christ came to show us a nobler style of living and 
bearing ; and so far as he had a personal and earthly life, 
he buried it as a corner-stone on which to erect a new im- 
mortal style of architecture. 

Of his own, he had nothing, neither houses, nor lands, nor 
family ties, nor human hopes, nor earthly sphere of success ; 
and as a human life, it was all a sacrifice and a defeat. He 
was rejected by his countrymen, whom the passionate an- 
guish of his love and the unwearied devotion of his life 
could not save from an awful doom. He was betrayed by 
weak friends, prevailed against by slanderers, overwhelmed 
with an ignominious death in the morning of youth, and his 
mother stood by his cross, and she was the only woman 
whom God ever called highly favored in this world. 

This, then, is the great and perfect ideal of what God 
honors. Christ speaks of himself as bread to be eaten, — 
bread, simple, humble, unpretending, vitally necessary to 
human life, made by the bruising and grinding of the 
grain, unostentatiously having no life or worth of its own 


398 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


except as it is absorbed into the life of others and lives in 
them. We wished in this history to speak of a class of 
lives formed on the model of Christ, and like his, obscure 
and unpretending, like his, seeming to end in darkness and 
defeat, but which yet have this preciousness and value that 
the dear saints who live them come nearest in their mission 
to the mission of Jesus. They are made, not for a career 
and history of their own, but to be bread of life to others. 
In every household or house have been some of these, and 
if we look on their lives and deaths with the unbaptized 
eyes of nature, we shall see only most mournful and unac- 
countable failure, — when, if we could look with the eye of 
faith, we should see that their living and dying has been 
bread of life to those they left behind. Fairest of these, and 
least developed, are the holy innocents who come into our 
households to smile with the smile of angels, who sleep in 
our bosoms, and win us with the softness of tender little 
hands, and pass away like the lamb that was slain before 
they have ever learned the speech of mortals. Not vain 
are even these silent lives of Christ’s lambs, whom many an 
earth-bound heart has been roused to follow when the Shep- 
herd bore them to the higher pastures. And so the daugh- 
ter who died so early, whose wedding-bells were never rung 
except in heaven, — the son who had no career of ambition 
or manly duty except among the angels, — the patient suf- 
ferers, whose only lot on earth seemed to be to endure, 
whose life bled away drop by drop in the shadows of the 
sick-room — all these are among those whose life was like 
Christ’s in that they were made, not for themselves, but to 
become bread to us. 

It is expedient for us that they go away. Like their 
Lord, they come to suffer, and to die ; they take part in his 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


399 


sacrifice ; their life is incomplete without their death, and 
not till they are gone away does the Comforter fully come 
to us. 

It is a beautiful legend which one sees often represented 
in the churches of Europe, that when the grave of the 
mother of Jesus was opened, it was found full of blossoming 
lilies, — fit emblem of the thousand flowers of holy thought 
and purpose which spring up in our hearts from the memory 
of our sainted dead. 

Cannot many, who read these lines, bethink them of such 
rooms that have been the most cheerful places in the family, 
— when the heart of the smitten one seemed the band that 
bound all the rest together, — and have there not been dy- 
ing hours which shed such a joy and radiance on all around, 
that it was long before the mourners remembered to mourn ? 
Is it not a misuse of words to call such a heavenly transla- 
tion death ? and to call most things that are lived out on this 
earth life 7 


iOO 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

It is now about a month after the conversation which we 
have recorded, and during that time the process which was 
to loose from this present life had been going on in Mara 
with a soft, insensible, but steady power. When she ceased 
to make efforts beyond her strength, and allowed herself 
that languor and repose which nature claimed, all around her 
soon became aware how her strength was failing ; and yet 
a cheerful repose seemed to hallow the atmosphere around 
her. The sight of her every day in family worship, sitting 
by in such tender tranquillity, with such a smile on her face, 
seemed like a present inspiration. And though the aged pair 
knew that she was no more for this world, yet she was com- 
forting and inspiring to their view as the angel who of old 
rolled back the stone from the sepulchre and sat upon it. 
They saw in her eyes, not death, but the solemn victory 
which Christ gives over death. 

Bunyan has no more lovely poem than the image he 
gives of that land of pleasant waiting which borders the 
river of death, where the chosen of the Lord repose, while 
shining messengers, constantly passing and repassing, bear 
tidings from the celestial shore, opening a way between 
earth and heaven. It was so, that through the very thought 
of Mara an influence of tenderness and tranquillity passed 
through the whole neighborhood, keeping hearts fresh with 
sympathy, and causing thought and conversation to rest on 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


401 


those bright mysteries of eternal joy which were reflected 
on her face. 

Sally Kittridge was almost a constant inmate of the brown 
house, ever ready in watching and waiting ; and one only 
needed to mark the expression of her face to feel that a 
holy charm was silently working upon her higher and spir- 
itual nature. Those great, dark, sparkling eyes that once 
seemed to express only the brightness of animal, vivacity, 
and glittered like a brook in unsympathetic gayety, had in 
them now mysterious depths, and tender, fleeting shadows, 
and the very tone of her voice had a subdued tremor. The 
capricious elf, the tricksy sprite, was melting away in the 
immortal soul, and the deep pathetic power of a noble heart 
was being born. Some influence sprung of sorrow is neces- 
sary always to perfect beauty in womanly nature. We feel 
its absence in many whose sparkling wit and high spirits 
give grace and vivacity to life, but in whom we vainly seek 
for some spot of quiet tenderness and sympathetic repose. 
Sally was, ignorantly to herself, changing in the expression 
of her face and the tone of her character, as she ministered 
in the daily wants which sickness brings in a simple house- 
hold. 

For the rest of the neighborhood, the shelves and larder 
of Mrs. Pennel were constantly crowded with the tributes 
which one or another sent in for the invalid. There was jelly 
of Iceland moss sent across by Miss Emily, and brought by 
Mr. Sewell, whose calls were almost daily. There were 
custards and preserves, and every form of cake and other 
confections in which the house-keeping talent of the neigh- 
bors delighted, and which were sent in under the old 
superstition that sick people must be kept eating at all 
hazards. 


402 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


At church, Sunday after Sunday, the simple note re- 
quested the prayers of the church and congregation for 
Mara Lincoln, who was, as the note phrased it, drawing 
near her end, that she and all concerned might be prepared 
for the great and last change. One familiar with New 
England customs must have remembered with what a plain- 
tive power the reading of such a note, from Sunday to Sun- 
day, has .drawn the thoughts and sympathies of a congrega- 
tion to some chamber of sickness ; and in a village church, 
where every individual is known from childhood to every 
other, the power of this simple custom is still greater. 

Then the prayers of the minister would dwell on the 
case, and thanks would be rendered to God for the great 
light and peace with which he had deigned to visit his 
young handmaid ; and then would follow a prayer that when 
these sad tidings should reach a distant friend who had 
gone down to do business on the great waters, they might 
be sanctified to his spiritual and everlasting good. Then 
on Sunday noons, as the people ate their dinners together 
in a room adjoining the church, all that she said and did 
was talked over and over, — how quickly she had gained 
the victory of submission, the peace of a will united with 
God’s, mixed with harmless gossip of the sick chamber, — 
as to what she ate and how she slept, and who had sent 
her gruel with raisins in it, and who jelly with wine, and 
how she had praised this and eaten that twice with a relish, 
but how the other had seemed to disagree with her. There- 
after would come scraps of nursing information, recipes 
against coughing, specifics against short breath, speculations 
about watchers, how soon she would need them, and long 
legends of other death-beds where the fear of death had 
been slain by the power of an endless life. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


403 


Yet through all the gossip, and through much that might 
have been called at other times commonplace cant of re- 
ligion, there was spread a tender earnestness, and the whole 
air seemed to be enchanted with the fragrance of that fading 
rose. Each one spoke more gently, more lovingly to each, 
for the thought of her. 

It was now a bright September morning, and the early 
frosts had changed the maples in the pine-woods to scarlet, 
and touched the white birches with gold, when one morning 
Miss Rosy presented herself at an early hour at Captain 
Kittridge’s. 

They were at breakfast, and Sally was dispensing the tea 
at the head of the table, Mrs. Kittridge having been pre- 
vailed on to abdicate in her favor. 

“ It is such a fine morning,” she said, looking out at the 
window, which showed a waveless expanse of ocean. “ I 
do hope Mara has had a good night.” 

“ I ’m a-goin’ to make her some jelly this very forenoon,” 
said Mrs. Kittridge. “ Aunt Roxy was a-tellin’ me yester- 
day that she was a-goin’ down to stay at the house regular, 
for she needed so much done now.” 

“ It ’s ’most an amazin’ thing we don’t hear from Moses 
Pennel,” said Captain Kittridge. “ If* he don’t make haste 
he may never see her.” 

“ There ’s Aunt Roxy at this minute,” said Sally. 

In truth the door opened at this moment, and Aunt Roxy 
entered with a little blue band-box and a bundle tied- up in 
a checked handkerchief. 

“ Oh, Aunt Roxy,” said Mrs. Kittridge, “ you are on your 
way, are you ? Do sit down, right here, and get a cup of 
6trong tea.” 


404 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Thank you,” said Aunt Roxy, “ but Ruey gave me a 
humming cup before I came away.” 

“ Aunt Roxy, have they heard anything from Moses ? ” 
said the Captain. 

“ No, father, I know they have n’t,” said Sally. “ Mara 
has written to him and so has Mr. Sewell, but it is very 
uncertain whether he ever got the letters.” 

“ It ’s most time to be a-lookin’ for him home,” said 
the Captain. “ I should n’t be surprised to see him any 
day.” 

At this moment Sally, who sat where she could see from 
the window, gave a sudden start and a half scream, and ris- 
ing from the table, darted first to the window and then to 
the door, whence she rushed out eagerly. 

“ Well, what now ? ” said the Captain. 

“ I am sure I don’t know what ’s come over her,” said 
Mrs. Kittridge, rising to look out. 

w Why, Aunt Roxy, do look ; I believe to my soul that 
ar ’s Moses Pennel ! ” 

And so it was. He met Sally, as she ran out, with a 
gloomy brow and scarcely a look even of recognition ; but 
he seized her hand and wrung it in the stress of his emotion 
so that she almost screamed with the pain. 

“ Tell me, Sally,” he said, “ tell me the truth. I dared 
not go home without I knew. Those gossiping, lying re- 
ports are always exaggerated. They are dreadful exagger- 
ations, — they frighten a sick person into the grave ; but 
you have good sense and a hopeful, cheerful temper, — you 
must see and know how things are. Mara is not so very 
— very ” — He held Sally’s hand and looked at her 
with a burning eagerness. “ Say, what do you think of 
her?” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


405 


“We all think that we cannot long keep her with us,” 
said Sally. “ And oh, Moses, I am so glad you have 
come.” 

“ It ’s false, — it must be false,” he said, violently ; “ noth- 
ing is more deceptive than these ideas that doctors and 
nurses pile on when a sensitive person is going down a 
little. I know Mara ; everything depends on the mind 
with her. I shall wake her up out of this dream. She 
is not to die. She shall not die, — I come to save her.” 

“ Oh, if you could ! ” said Sally mournfully. 

“ It cannot be ; it is not to be,” he said again, as if to 
convince himself. “ No such thing is to be thought of. 
Tell me, Sally, have you tried to keep up the cheerful side 
of things to her, — have you ? ” 

“ Oh, you cannot tell, Moses, how it is, unless you see 
her. She is cheerful, happy ; the only really joyous one 
among us.” 

“ Cheerful ! joyous ! happy ! She does not believe, then, 
these frightful things ? I thought she would keep up ; she 
is a brave little thing.” 

“ No, Moses, she does believe. She has given up all 
hope of life, — all wish to live ; and oh, she is so lovely, — 
so sweet, — so dear.” 

Sally covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Moses 
stood still, looking at her a moment in a confused way, and 
then he answered, — 

“ Come, gfet your bonnet, Sally, and go with me. You 
must go in and tell them; tell her that I am come, you 
know.” 

“ Yes, I will,” said Sally, as she ran quickly back to the 
house. 

Moses stood listlessly looking after her. A moment after 


406 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


she came out of the door again, and Miss Roxy behind. 
Sally hurried up to Moses. 

“ Where ’s that black old raven going ? ” said Moses, in 
a low voice, looking back on Miss Roxy, who stood on the 
steps after them. 

“ What, Aunt Roxy ? ” said Sally ; “ why, she ’s going up 
to nurse Mara, and take care of her. Mrs. Pennel is so old 
and infirm she needs somebody to depend on.” 

“ I can’t bear her,” said Moses. “ I always think of sick- 
rooms and coffins and a stifling smell of camphor when I 
see her. I never could endure her. She ’s an old harpy 
going to carry off my dove.” 

“ Now, Moses, you must not talk so. She loves Mara 
dearly, the poor old soul, and Mara loves her, and there is 
no earthly thing she would not do for her. And she knows 
what to do for sickness better than you or I. I have found 
out one thing, that it is n’t mere love and good-will that is 
needed in a sick-room ; it needs knowledge and experience.” 

Moses assented in gloomy silence, and they walked on 
together the way that they had so often taken laughing and 
chatting. When they came within sight of the house, Moses 
said, — 

“ Here she came running to meet us ; do you remem- 
ber?” 

“ Yes,” said Sally. 

“ I was never half worthy of her. I never said half what 
I ought to,” he added. “ She must live ! I must have one 
more chance.” 

When they came up to the house, Zephaniah Pennel was 
sitting in the door, with his gray head bent over the leaves 
of the great family Bible. 

He rose up at their coming, and with that suppression of 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


407 


all external signs of feeling for which the New Englander is 
remarkable, simply shook the hand of Moses, saying, — 
“Well, my boy, we are glad you have come.” 

Mrs. Pennel, who was busied in some domestic work in 
the back part of the kitchen, turned away and hid her face 
in her apron when she saw him. There fell a great silence 
among them, in the midst of which the old clock ticked loud- 
ly and importunately, like the inevitable approach of fate. 

“ I will go up and see her, and get her ready,” said Sally, 
in a whisper to Moses. “ I ’ll come and call you.” 

Moses sat down and looked around on the old familiar scene ; 
there was the great fireplace where, in their childish days, 
they had sat together winter nights, — her fair, spiritual face 
enlivened by the blaze, while she knit and looked thought- 
fully into the coals ; there she had played checkers, or fox 
and geese, with him ; or studied with him the Latin lessons ; 
or sat by, grave and thoughtful, hemming his toy-ship sails, 
while he cut the moulds for his anchors, or tried experiments 
on pulleys ; and in all these years he could not remember 
one selfish action, — one unlovely word, — and he thought 
to himself, — “I hoped to possess this angel as a mortal 
wife ! God forgive my presumption.” 


408 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XL. 

Sally found Mara sitting in an easy-chair that had been 
sent to her by the provident love of Miss Emily. It was 
wheeled in front of her room window, from whence she could 
look out upon the wide expanse of the ocean. It was a 
gloriously bright, calm morning, and the water lay clear and 
still, with scarce a ripple, to the far distant pearly horizon. 
She seemed to be looking at it in a kind of calm ecstasy, 
and murmuring the words of a hymn: — 

“ Nor wreck nor ruin there is seen, 

There not a wave of trouble rolls, 

But the bright rainbow round the throne 
Peals endless peace to all their souls.” 

Sally came softly behind her on tiptoe to kiss her. “ Good- 
morning, dear, how do you find yourself ? ” 

“ Quite well,” was the answer. 

“ Mara, is not there anything you want ? ” 

“ There might be many things ; but His will is mine.” 

“ You want to see Moses ? ” 

“ Very much; but I shall see him as soon as it is best for 
us both.” 

“ Mara, — he is come.” 

The quick blood flushed over the pale, transparent face as 
a virgin glacier flushes at sunrise, and she looked up eagerly. 
“ Come ! ” 

“ Yes, he is below-stairs wanting to see you.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


409 


She seemed about to speak eagerly, and then checked 
herself and mused a moment. “ Poor, poor boy ! ” she 
said. “ Yes, Sally, let him come at once.” 

There were a few dazzling, dreamy minutes when Moses 
first held that frail form in his arms, which but for its tender, 
mortal warmth, might have seemed to him a spirit. It was 
no spirit, but a woman whose heart he could feel thrilling 
against his own ; who seemed to him like some frail, flutter- 
ing bird ; but somehow, as he looked into her clear, trans- 
parent face, and pressed her thin little hands in his, the con; 
viction stole over him overpoweringly that she was indeed 
fading away and going from him, — drawn from him by that 
mysterious, irresistible power against which human strength, 
even in the strongest, has no chance. 

It is dreadful to a strong man who has felt the influence 
of his strength, — who has always been ready with a re- 
source for every emergency, and a weapon for every battle, 

— when first he meets that mighty invisible power by which 
a beloved life — a life he would give his own blood to save 

— melts and dissolves like smoke before his eyes. 

“ Oh, Mara, Mara,” he groaned, “ this is too dreadful, too 
cruel ; it is cruel” 

“ You will think so at first, but not always,” she said, 
soothingly. “ You will live to see a joy come out of this 
sorrow.” 

« Never , Mara, never. I cannot believe that kind of talk. 
I see no love, no mercy in it. Of course, if there is any 
life after death you will be happy ; if there is a heaven 
you will be there ; but can this dim, unsubstantial, cloudy 
prospect make you happy in leaving jje and giving up one’s 
lover ? Oh, Mara, you cannot love as I do, or you could 
not ” 


18 


410 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Moses, I have suffered, — oh, very, very much. It was 
many months ago when I first thought that I must give 
everything up, — when I thought that we must part ; but 
Christ helped me ; he showed me his wonderful love, — the 
love that surrounds us all our life, that follows us in all our 
wanderings, and sustains us in all our weaknesses, — and 
then I felt that whatever He wills for us is in love ; oh, be- 
lieve it, — believe it for my sake, for your own.” 

“ Oh, I cannot, I cannot,” said Moses ; but as he looked at 
the bright, pale face, and felt how the tempest of his feelings 
shook the frail form, he checked himself. “ I do wrong to 
agitate you so, Mara. I will try to be calm.” 

“ And to pray ? ” she said, beseechingly. 

He shut his lips in gloomy silence. 

“ Promise me,” she said. 

“ I have prayed ever since I got your first letter, and I 
see it does no good,” he answered. “ Our prayers cannot 
alter fate.” 

“ Fate ! there is no fate,” she answered ; “ there is a 
strong and loving Father who guides the way, though we 
know it not. We cannot resist His will ; but it is all love, 
— pure, pure love.” 

At this moment Sally came softly into the room. A gen- 
tle air of womanly authority seemed to express itself in that 
once gay and giddy face, at which Moses, in the midst of his 
misery, marvelled. 

“ You must not stay any longer now,” she said ; “ it would 
be too much for her strength ; this is enough for this morn- 
ing.” 

Moses turned away, and silently left the room, and Sally 
6aid to Mara, — 

“ You must lie down now and rest” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


411 


“ Sally,” said Mara, “ promise me one thing.” 

“ Well, Mara ; of course I will.” 

“ Promise to love him and care for him when I am gone ; 
he will be so lonely.” 

“ I will do all I can, Mara,” said Sally, soothingly ; “ so 
now you must take a little wine and lie down. You know 
what you have so often said, that all will yet be well with 
him.” 

“ Oh, I know it, I am sure,” said Mara, “ but oh, his sor- 
row shook my very heart.” 

“ You must not talk another word about it,” said Sally, 
peremptorily. “ Do you know Aunt Roxy is coming to see 
you ? I see her out of the window this very moment.” 

And Sally assisted to lay her friend on the bed, and then, 
administering a stimulant, she drew down the curtains, and, 
sitting beside her, began repeating, in a soft, monotonous 
tone, the words of a favorite hymn : — 

“ The Lcrrd my shepherd is, 

I shall be well supplied; 

Since He is mine, and I am His, 

What can I want beside ? ” 

Before she had finished, Mara was asleep. 


412 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

Moses carue down from the chamber of Mara in a tem- 
pest of contending emotions. He had all that constitutional 
horror of death and the spiritual world, which is an attribute 
of some particularly strong and well-endowed physical na- 
tures, and he had all that instinctive resistance of the will 
which such natures offer to anything which strikes athwart 
their cherished hopes and plans. 

To be wrenched suddenly from the sphere of an earthly 
life and made to confront the unclosed doors of a spiritual 
world on the behalf of the one dearest to him, was to him a 
dreary horror uncheered by one filial belief in God. He 
felt, furthermore, that blind animal irritation which assails 
one under a sudden blow, whether of the body or of the soul, 
— an anguish of resistance, — a vague blind anger. 

Mr. Sewell was sitting in the kitchen, — he had called to 
see Mara, and waited for the close of the interview above. 
He rose and offered his hand to Moses, — who took it in 
gloomy silence, without a smile or word. 

“ 4 My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord,* ” 
said Mr. Sewell. 

“ I cannot bear that sort of thing,” said Moses abruptly, 
and almost fiercely. “ I beg your pardon, sir, but it irri- 
tates me.” 

“ Do you not believe that afflictions are sent for our im- 
provement ? ” said Mr. Sewell. 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


413 


“ No ! how can I ! What improvement will there be to 
me in taking from me the angel who guided me to all good, 
and kept me from all evil ; the one pure motive and holy in- 
fluence of my life ? If you call this the chastening of a lov- 
ing father, I must say it looks more to me like the caprice 
of an evil spirit.” 

“ Had you ever thanked the God of your life for this gift, 
or felt your dependence on him to keep it ? Have you not 
blindly idolized the creature and forgotten Him who gave 
it?” said Mr. Sewell. 

Moses was silent a moment. 

“ I cannot believe there is a God,” he said. “ Since this 
fear came on me I have prayed, — yes, and humbled myself; 
for I know I have not always been what I ought. I prom- 
ised if he would grant me this one thing, I would seek him 
in future; but it did no good, — it’s of no use to pray. I 
would have been good in this way, if she might be spared, 
and I cannot in any other.” 

“ My son, our Lord and Master will have no such condi- 
tions from us,” said Mr. Sewell. “We must submit uncon- 
ditionally. She has done it, and her peace is as firm as the 
everlasting hills. God’s will is a great current .that flows 
in spite of us ; if we go with it, it carries us to endless 
rest, — if we resist, we only wear our lives out in useless 
struggles.” 

Moses stood a moment in silence, and then, turning away 
without a word, hurried from the house. He strode along the 
high rocky bluff, through tangled junipers and pine thick- 
ets, till he came above the rocky cove which had been his 
favorite retreat on so many occasions. He swung himself 
down over the cliffs into the grotto, where, shut in by the 
high tide, he felt himself alone. There he had read Mr. 


414 THE PEARL OF ORQ’S ISLAND. 

Sewell’s letter, and dreamed vain dreams of wealth and 
worldly success, now all to him so void. He felt to-day, 
as he sat there and watched the ships go by, how utterly 
nothing all the wealth in the world was, in the loss of that 
one heart. Unconsciously, even to himself, sorrow was do- 
ing her ennobling ministry within him, melting off in her 
fierce fires trivial ambitions and low desires, and making 
him feel the sole worth and value of love. That which in 
other days had seemed only as one good thing among many 
now seemed the only thing in life. And he who has learned 
the paramount value of love has taken one step from an 
earthly to a spiritual existence. 

' But as he lay there on the pebbly shore, hour after hour 
glided by, his whole past life lived itself over to his eye ; 
he saw a thousand actions, he heard a thousand words, 
whose beauty and significance never came to him till now. 
And alas ! he saw so many when, on his part, the respon- 
sive word that should have been spoken, and the deed that 
should have been done, was forever wanting. He had all his 
life carried within him a vague consciousness that he had not 
been to Mara what he should have been, but he had hoped 
to make amends for all in that future which lay before him, 
— that future now, alas! dissolving and fading away like the 
white cloud-islands which the wind was drifting from the 
sky. A voice seemed saying in his ears, “Ye know that 
when he would have inherited a blessing he was rejected ; 
for he found no place for repentance, though he sought it 
carefully with tears.” Something that he had never felt 
before struck him as appalling in the awful fixedness of 
all past deeds and words, — the unkind words once said, 
which no tears could unsay, — the kind ones suppressed, to 
which no agony of wishfulness could give a past reality. 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


415 


There were particular times in their past history that he re- 
membered so vividly, when he saw her so clearly, — doing 
some little thing for him, and shyly watching for the word 
of acknowledgment, which he did not give. Some wilful 
wayward demon withheld him at the moment, and the light 
on the little wishful face slowly faded. True, all had been a 
thousand times forgiven and forgotten between them, but it 
is the ministry of these great vital hours of sorrow to 
teach us that nothing in the soul’s history ever dies or is 
forgotten, and when the beloved one lies stricken and ready 
to pass away, comes the judgment-day of love, and all the 
dead moments of the past arise and live again. 

He lay there musing and dreaming till the sun grew low 
in the afternoon sky, and the tide that isolated the little 
grotto had gone far out into the ocean, leaving long low reefs 
of sunken rocks, all matted and tangled with the yellow 
hair of tjie sea-weed, with little crystal pools of salt water 
between. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps* 
and Captain Kittridge came slowly picking his way round 
among the shingle and pebbles. 

u Wal’ now, I thought I ’d find ye here ! ” he said. “ I 
kind o’ thought I wanted to see ye, — ye see.” 

Moses looked up half moody, half astonished, while the 
Captain seated himself upon a fragment of rock and began 
brushing the knees of his trousers industriously, until soon 
the tears rained down from his eyes upon his dry withered 
hands. 

“ Wal’ now ye see, I can’t help it, darned if I can ; 
knowed her ever since she ’s that high. She ’s done me 
good, she has. Mis’ Kittridge has been pretty faithful. 
I ’ve had folks here and there talk to me consid’able, but 
Lord bless you, I never had nothin’ go to my heart like 


416 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


this ’ere Why to look on her there couldn’t nobody 

doubt but what there was somethin’ in religion. You never 
knew half what she did for you, Moses Pennel, you did n’t 
know that the night you was off down to the long cove with 
Skipper Atkinson, that ’ere blessed child was a-follerin’ you, 
but she was, and she come to me next day to get me to do 
somethin’ for you. That was how your grand’ther and I 
got ye off to sea so quick, and she such a little thing then ; 
that ar child was the savin’ of ye, Moses Pennel.” Moses 
hid his head in his hands with a sort of groan. 

“ Wal’, wal’,” said the Captain, “ I don’t wonder now ye 
feel so, — I don’t see how ye can stan’ it no ways — only 

by thinkin’ o’ where she ’s goin’ to Them ar bells in 

the Celestial City must all be a-ringin’ for her, — there ’ll 
be joy that side o’ the river I reckon when she gets acrost. 
If she ’d jest leave me a hem o’ her garment to get in by, I ’d 
be glad ; but she was one o’ the sort that was jesf made to 
go to heaven. She only stopped a few days in our world, 
like the robins when they ’s goin’ South; but there’ll be a 
good many fust and last that’ll get into the kingdom for 
love of her. She never said much to me, but she kind o’ 
drew me. Ef ever I should get in there, it ’ll be she led 
me. But come, now, Moses, ye ought n’t fur to be a-set- 
tin’ here catchin’ cold — jest come round to our house and 
let Sally gin you a warm cup o’ tea — do come, now.” 

“ Thank you, Captain,” said Moses, “ but I will go home ; 
I must see her again to-night.” 

“Wal’, don’t let her see you grieve too much, ye know ; 
we must be a little sort o’ manly, ye know, ’cause her body ’s 
weak, if her heart is strong.” 

Now Moses was in a mood of dry, proud, fierce, self-con- 
suming sorrow, least likely to open his heart or seek sym 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


417 


pathy from any one ; and no friend or acquaintance would 
probably have dared to intrude on his grief. But there are 
moods of the mind which cannot be touched or handled by 
one on an equal level with us that yield at once to the 
sympathy of something below. A dog who comes with his 
great honest, sorrowful face and lays his mute paw of inquiry 
on your knee, will sometimes open floodgates of softer feel- 
ing, that have remained closed to every human touch ; — 
the dumb simplicity and ignorance of his sympathy makes 
it irresistible. In like manner the downright grief of the 
good-natured old Captain, and the child-like ignorance with 
which he ventured upon a ministry of consolation from which 
a more cultivated person would have shrunk away, were ir- 
resistibly touching. Moses grasped the dry, withered hand 
and said, “ Thank you, thank you, Captain Kittridge ; you ’re 
a true friend.” 

u Wal’, I be, that’s a fact, Moses — Lord bless me, I a’n’t 
no great — I a’n’t nobody — I’m jest an old last-year’s mul- 
lein-stalk in the Lord’s vineyard — but that ’ere blessed lit- 
tle thing allers had a good word for me.' She gave me a 
hymn-book and marked some hymns in it, and read ’em to 
me herself, and her voice was jest as sweet as the sea of a 
warm evening. Them hymns come to me kind o’ powerful 
when I ’m at my work planin’ and sawin’. Mis’ Kittridge, 
she allers talks to me as ef I was a terrible sinner ; and I 
suppose I be, but this ’ere blessed child, she’s so kind o’ good 
and innocent, she thinks I ’m good ; kind o’ takes it for 
granted I ’m one o’ the Lord’s people, ye know. It kind o’ 
makes me want to be, ye know.” 

The Captain here produced from his coat-pocket a much 
worn hymn-book, and showed Moses where leaves were 
folded down. “ Now here ’s this ’ere,” he said ; “ you get 
18 * 


418 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


her to say it to you,” he added, pointing to the well-known 
6acred idyl which has refreshed so many hearts : 

“ There is a land of pure delight 
Where saints immortal reign; 

Eternal daj r excludes the night, 

And pleasures banish pain. 

.There everlasting spring abides, 

And never-fading flowers; 

Death like a narrow sea divides 
This happy land from ours.” 

“ Now that ar beats everything,” said the Captain, 
u and we must kind o’ think of it for her, ’cause she’s 
goin’ to see all that, and ef it ’s our loss it ’s her gain, ye 
know.” 

“ I know,” said Moses ; “ our grief is selfish.” 

“ Jest so. Wal’, we ’re selfish critters, we be,” said the 
Captain ; “ but arter all ’t a’n’t as ef we was heathen and 
did n’t know where they was a-goin’ to. We jest ought to 
be a-lookin’ about and tryin’ to foller ’em, ye know.” 

“ Yes, yes, I do know,” said Moses ; “ it ’s easy to say, but 
hard to do.” 

“ But law, man, she prays for you ; — she did years and 
years ago, when you was a boy and she a girl. You know 
it tells in the Revelations how the angels has golden vials 
full of odors which are the prayers of saints. I tell ye, 
Moses, you ought to get into heaven, if no one else does. I 
expect you are pretty well known among the angels by this 
time. I tell ye what ’t is, Moses, fellers think it a mighty 
pretty thing to be a-steppin’ high, and a-sayin’ they don’t 
believe the Bible, and all that ar, so long as the world goes 
well. This ’ere old Bible — why it ’s jest like yer mother, 
— ye rove and ramble, and cut up round the world without 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


419 


her a spell, and mebbe think the old woman a’n’t so fashion- 
able as some ; but when sickness and sorrow comes, why, 
there a’n’t nothin’ else to go back to. Is there, now ? ” 
Moses did not answer, but he shook the hand of the Cap- 
tain and turned away. 












420 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

The setting sun gleamed in at the window of Mara’s 
chamber, tinted with rose and violet hues from a great cloud- 
castle that lay upon the smooth ocean over against the win- 
dow. Mara was lying upon the bed, but she raised herself 
upon her elbow to look out. 

“ Dear Aunt Roxy,” she said, “ raise me up and put the 
pillows behind me, so that I can see out — it is splendid.” 

Aunt Roxy came and arranged the pillows, and lifted the 
girl with her long, strong arms, then stooping over her a 
moment she finished her arrangements by softly smoothing 
the hair from her forehead with a caressing movement most 
unlike her usual precise business-like proceedings. 

“ I love you, Aunt Roxy,” said Mara, looking up with a 
smile. • 

Aunt Roxy made a strange wry face, which caused her 
to look harder than usual. She was choked with tender- 
ness, and had only this uncomely way of showing it. 

“ Law now, Mara, I don’t see how ye can ; I a’n’t nothin’ 
but an old burdock-bush ; — love a’n’t for me.” ' 

“ Yes it is too,” said Mara, drawing her down and kissing 
her withered cheek, “ and you sha’n’t call yourself an old 
burdock. God sees that you are beautiful, and in the res- 
urrection everybody will see it.” 

“ I was always homely as an owl,” said Miss Roxy, un- 
consciously speaking out what had lain like a stone at the 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


421 


bottom of even her sensible heart. “ I always had sense to 
know it, and knew my sphere. Homely folks would like to 
say pretty things, and to have pretty things said to them, but 
they never do. I made up my mind pretty early that my 
part in the vineyard was to have hard work and no posies.” 

“Well, you will have all the more in heaven; — I love 
you dearly, and I like your looks, too. You look kind and 
true and good, and that ’s beauty in the country where we 
are going.” 

Miss Roxy sprang up quickly from the bed, and turning 
her back began to arrange the bottles on the table with great 
zeal. 

“ Has Moses come in yet ? ” said Mara. 

“ No, there ’a’n’t nobody seen a thing of him since he 
went out this morning.” 

“ Poor boy ! ” said Mara, “ it is too hard upon him. Aunt 
Roxy, please pick some roses off the bush from under the 
window and put in the vases ; let ’s have the room as sweet 
and cheerful as we can. I hope God will let me live long 
enough to comfort him. It is not so very terrible, if one 
would only think so, to cross that river. All looks so bright 
to me now that I have forgotten how sorrow seemed. Poor 
Moses ! he will have a hard struggle, but he will get the 
victory, too. I am very weak to-night, but to-morrow I 
shall feel better, and I shall sit up, and perhaps I can paint 
a little on that flower I was doing for him. We will not 
ha\ e things look sickly or deathly. There, Aunt Roxy, he 
has come in ; I hear his step.” 

“ I did n’t hear it,” said Miss Roxy, surprised at the acute 
senses which sickness had etherealized to an almost spirit- 
like intensity. “ Shall I call him ? ” 


422 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


“ Yes, do,” said Mara. “ He can sit with me a little 
while to-night.” 

The light in the room was a strange dusky mingling of 
gold and gloom, when Moses stole softly in. The great 
cloud-castle that a little while since had glowed like living 
gold from turret and battlement, now dim, changed for the 
most part to a sombre gray, enlivened with a dull glow of 
crimson ; but there was still a golden light where the sun 
had sunk into the sea. Moses saw the little thin hand 
stretched out to him. 

“ Sit down,” she said ; “ it has been such a beautiful sun- 
set. Did you notice it ? ” 

He sat down by the bed, leaning his forehead on his hand, 
but saying nothing. 

She drew her fingers through his dark hair. “ I am so 
glad to see you,” she said. “ It is such a comfort to me that 
you have come ; and I hope it will be to you. You know I 
shall be better to-morrow than I am to-night, and I hope we 
shall have some pleasant days together yet. We must n’t 
reject what little we may have, because it cannot be more.” 

“ Oh, Mara,” said Moses, “ I would give my life, if I could 
take back the past. I have never been worthy of you ; 
never knew your worth ; never made you happy. You al- 
ways lived for me, and I lived for myself. I deserve to 
lose you, but it is none the less bitter.” 

“ Don’t say lose. Why must you ? I cannot think of 
losing you. I know I shall not. God has given you to me. 
You will come to me and be mine at last. I feel sure of it.” 

“ You don’t know me,” said Moses. 

“ Christ does, though,” she said ; “ and He has promised to 
care for you. Yes, you will live to see many flowers grow 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


423 


out of my grave. You cannot think so now ; but it will be 
so — believe me.” 

“ Mara,” said Moses, “ I never lived through such a day 
as this. It seems as if every moment of my life had 
been passing before me, and every moment of yours. I 
have seen how true and loving in thought and word and deed 
you have been, and I have been doing nothing but take — 
take. You have given love as the skies give rain, and I 
have drunk it up like the hot dusty earth.” 

Mara knew in her own heart that this was all true, and 
she was too real to use any of the terms of affected humili- 
ation which many think a kind of spiritual court language. 
She looked at him and answered, “ Moses, I always knew I 
loved most. It was my nature ; God gave it to me, and it 
was a gift for which I give Him thanks — not a merit. I 
knew you had a larger, wider nature than mine, — a wider 
sphere to live in, and that you could not live in your heart 
as I did. Mine was all thought and feeling, and the narrow 
little duties of this little home. Yours went all round the 
world.” 

“ But, oh Mara — oh, my angel ! to think I should lose 
you when I am just beginning to know your worth. I al- 
ways had a sort of superstitious feeling, — a sacred presenti- 
ment about you, — that my spiritual life, if ever I had any, 
would come through you. It seemed if there ever was such 
a thing as God’s providence, which some folks believe in, it 
was in leading me to you, and giving you to me. And now, 
to have all dashed — all destroyed — It makes me feel as 
if all was blind chance ; no guiding God ; for if He wanted 
me to be good, He would spare you.” 

Mara lay with her large eyes fixed on the now faded sky. 
The dusky shadows had dropped like a black crape veil 


424 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

around her pale face. In a few moments she repeated to 
herself, as if she were musing upon them, those mysterious 
words of Him who liveth and was dead, “ Except a corn of 
wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ; if it die , 
it bringeth forth much fruit.” 

“ Moses,” she said, “ for all I know you have loved me 
dearly, yet I have felt that in all that was deepest and dear- 
est to me, I was alone. You did not come near to me, nor 
touch me where I feel most deeply. If I had lived to be 
your wife, I cannot say but this distance in our spiritual 
nature might have widened. You know, what we live with 
we get used to; it grows an old story. Your love to me 
might have grown old and worn out. If we lived together 
in the commonplace toils of life, you would see only a poor 
threadbare wife. I might have lost what little charm I ever 
had for you ; but I feel that if I die, this will not be. There 
is something sacred and beautiful in death ; and I may have 
more power over you, when I seem to be gone, than I should 
have had living.” 

“ Oh, Mara, Mara, don’t say that.” 

“ Dear Moses, it is so. Think how many lovers marry, 
and how few lovers are left in middle life ; and how few love 
and reverence living friends as they do the dead. There 
are only a very few to whom it is given to do that.” 

Something in the heart of Moses told him that this was 
true. In this one day — the sacred revealing light of ap- 
proaching death — he had seen more of the real spiritual 
beauty and significance of Mara’s life than in years before, 
and felt upspringing in his heart, from the deep pathetic 
influence of the approaching spiritual world, a new and 
stronger power of loving. It may be that it is not merely a 
j perception of love that we were not aware of before, that 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 425 

wakes up when we approach the solemn shadows with a 
friend. It may be that the soul has compressed and uncon- 
scious powers which are stirred and wrought upon as it looks 
over the borders into its future home, — its loves and its 
longings so swell and beat, that they astonish itself. We 
are greater than we know, and dimly feel it with every ap- 
proach to the great hereafter. “ It doth not yet appear what 
we shall be.” 

******* 

“ Now, I ’ll tell you what ’t is,” said Aunt Roxy, opening 
the door, “ all the strength this ’ere girl spends a-talkin’ to- 
night, will be so much taken out o’ the whole cloth to-mor- 
row.” 

Moses started up. “ I ought to have thought of that, 
Mara.” 

“ Ye see,” said Miss Roxy, “ she ’s been through a good 
deal to-day, and she must be got to sleep at some rate or 
other to-night. 4 Lord, if he sleep he shall do well,’ the 
Bible says, and it’s one of my best nussin’ maxims.” 

“ And a good one, too, Aunt Roxy ” said Mara. 44 Good- 
night, dear boy, you see we must all mind Aunt Roxy.” 

Moses bent down and kissed her, and felt her arms around 
his neck. 

“ Let not your heart be troubled,” she whispered. In 
spite of himself Moses felt the storm that had risen in his 
bosom that morning soothed by the gentle influences which 
Mara breathed upon it. There is a sympathetic power in 
all states of mind, and they who have reached the deep se- 
cret of eternal rest have a strange power of imparting calm 
to others. 

It was in the very crisis of the battle that Christ said to 
his disciples, “ My peace 1 give unto you” and they that are 


426 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


made one with him acquire like precious power of shedding 
round them repose, as evening flowers shed odors. Moses 
went to his pillow sorrowful and heart-stricken, but bitter 
or despairing he could not be with the consciousness of that 
present angel in the house. 


TIIE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


427 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

The next morning rose calm and bright with that won- 
derful and mystical stillness and serenity which glorify au- 
tumn days. It was impossible that such skies could smile 
and such gentle airs blow the sea into one great waving 
floor of sparkling sapphires without bringing cheerfulness to 
human hearts. You must be very despairing indeed when 
Nature is doing her best, to look her in the face sullen and 
defiant. So long as there is a drop of good in your cup, a 
penny in your exchequer of happiness, a bright day reminds 
you to look at it, and feel that all is not gone yet. 

So felt Moses when he stood in the door of the brown 
house, while Mrs. Pennel was clinking plates and spoons 
as she set the breakfast-table, and Zephaniah Pennel in his 
shirt-sleeves was washing in the back-room, while Miss Roxy 
came down-stairs in a business-like fashion bringing sundry 
bowls, plates, dishes, and mysterious pitchers from the sick- 
room. 

“ Well, Aunt Roxy, you a’n’t one that lets the grass grow 
under your feet,” said Mrs. Pennel. “ How is the dear child 
this morning ? ” 

“ Well, she had a better night than one could have ex- 
pected,” said Miss Roxy, “ and by the time she ’s had her 
breakfast, she expects to sit up a little and see her friends.” 
Miss Roxy said this in a cheerful tone, looking encourag- 
ingly at Moses whom she began to pity and patronize, now 
6he saw how real was his affliction. 


428 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


After breakfast Moses went to see her ; she was sitting up 
in hei* white dressing-gown looking so thin and poorly, and 
everything in the room was fragrant with the spicy smell 
of the monthly roses, whose late buds and blossoms Miss 
Roxy had gathered for the vases. She seemed so natural, so 
calm and cheerful, so interested in all that went on around 
her, that one almost forgot that the time of her stay must be 
so short. She called Moses to come and look at her drawings, 
and paintings of flowers and birds, — full of reminders they 
were of old times, — and then she would have her pencils and 
colors, and work a little on a bunch of red rock-columbine, 
that she had begun to do for him ; and she chatted of all the 
old familiar places where flowers grew, and of the old talks 
they had had there, till Moses quite forgot himself ; forgot 
that he was in a sick room, till Aunt Roxy, warned by the 
deepening color on Mara’s cheeks, interposed her “ nussing ” 
authority, that she must do no more that day. 

Then Moses laid her down, and arranged her pillows so 
that she could look out on the sea, and sat and read to her 
till it was time for her afternoon nap ; and when the evening 
shadows drew on, he marvelled with himself how the day 
had gone. 

Many such there were all that pleasant month of Septem- 
ber, and he was with her all the time, watching her wants 
and doing her bidding, — reading over and over with a soft- 
ened modulation her favorite hymns and chapters, arranging 
her flowers, and bringing her home wild bouquets from all 
her favorite wood-haunts, which made her sick-room seem 
like some sylvan bower. Sally Kittridge, was there too, al- 
most every day, with always some friendly offering or some 
helpful deed of kindness, and sometimes they two together 
would keep guard over the invalid while Miss Roxy went 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


429 


home to attend to some of her own more peculiar concerns. 
Mara seemed to rule all around her with calm sweetness and 
wisdom, speaking unconsciously only the speech of heaven, 
talking of spiritual things, not in an excited rapture or wild 
ecstasy, but with the sober certainty of waking bliss. She 
seemed like one of the sweet friendly angels one reads of in 
the Old Testament, so lovingly companionable, walking and 
talking, eating and drinking, with mortals, yet ready at any 
unknown moment to ascend with the flame of some sacrifice 
and be gone. There are those (a few at least), whose bless- 
ing it has been to have kept for many days in bonds of 
earthly fellowship, a perfected spirit in whom the work of 
purifying love was wholly done, who lived in calm victory 
over sin and sorrow and death, ready at any moment to be 
called to the final mystery of joy. 

Yet it must come at last, the moment when heaven 
claims its own, and it came at last in the cottage on Orr’s 
Island. There came a day when the room so sacredly cheer- 
ful was hushed to a breathless stillness; the bed was then 
all snowy white, and that soft still sealed face, the parted 
waves of golden hair, the little hands folded over the white 
robe, all had a sacred and wonderful calm, a rapture of re- 
pose that seemed to say “ it is done.” 

They who looked on her wondered ; it was a look that 
sunk deep into every heart ; it hushed down the common 
cant of those who, according to country custom, went to 
stare blindly at the great mystery of death, — for all that 
came out of that chamber smote upon their breasts and 
went away in silence, revolving strangely whence might 
come that unearthly beauty, that celestial joy. 

Once more, in that very room where James and Naomi 
Lincoln had lain side by side in their coffins, sleeping rest- 


430 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


fully, there was laid another form, shrouded and coffined, 
but with such a fairness and tender purity, such a mysteri- 
ous fulness of joy in its expression, that it seemed more 
natural to speak of that rest as some higher form of life 
than of death. 

Once more were gathered the neighborhood ; all the faces, 
known in this history, shone out in one solemn picture, of 
which that sweet restful form was the centre. Zephaniah 
Pennel and Mary his wife, Moses and Sally, the dry form 
of Captain Kittridge and the solemn face of his wife, Aunt 
Roxy and Aunt Ruey, Miss Emily and Mr. Sewell ; but 
their faces all wore a tender brightness, such as we see fall- 
ing like a thin celestial veil over all the faces in an old Flo- 
rentine painting. The room was full of sweet memories, of 
words of cheer, words of assurance, words of triumph, and 
the mysterious brightness of that young face forbade them 
to weep. Solemnly Mr. Sewell read, — 

“ He will swallow up death in victory ; and the Lord God 
will wipe away tears from off all faces ; and the rebuke of 
his people shall he take away from off all the earth ; for 
the Lord hath spoken it. And it shall be said in that day, 
Lo this is our God ; we have waited for him, and he will 
save us ; this is the Lord ; we have waited for him, we 
will be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” 

Then the prayer trembled up to heaven with thanksgiv- 
ing, for the early entrance of that fair young saint into 
glory, and then the same old funeral hymn, with its mourn- 
ful triumph: — 

“ Why should we mourn departed friends 
Or shake at death’s alarms, 

’T is but the voice that Jesus sends 
To call them to his arms.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


431 


Then in a few words Mr. Sewell reminded them how 
that hymn had been sung in this room so many years ago, 
when that frail fluttering orphan soul had been baptized into 
the love and care of Jesus, and how her whole life passing 
before them in its simplicity and beauty, had come to be so 
holy and beautiful a close, and when, pointing to the calm 
sleeping face he asked, “Would we call her back ? ” there 
was not a heart at that moment that dared answer, Yes. 
Even he that should have been her bridegroom could not 
at that moment have unsealed the holy charm, and so they 
bore her away, and laid the calm smiling face beneath the 
soil, by the side of poor Dolores. 

***** * * 

“ I had a beautiful dream last night,” said Zephaniah 
Pennel, the next morning after the funeral, as he opened his 
Bible to conduct family worship. 

“ What was it ? ” said Miss Roxy. 

“ Well ye see, I thought I was out a- walkin’ up and down 
and lookin’ and lookin’ for something that I ’d lost. What it 
was I could n’t quite make out, but my heart felt heavy as 
if it would break, and I was lookin’ all up and down the 
sands by the sea-shore, and somebody said I was like the 
merchantman, seeking goodly pearls. I said I had lost my 
pearl — my pearl of great price — and then I looked up, and 
far off* on the beach, shining softly on the wet sands, lay my 
pearl. I thought it was Mara, but it seemed a great pearl 
with a soft moonlight on it; and I was running for it when 
some one said ‘ hush,’ and I looked and I saw Him a-com- 
ing — Jesus of Nazareth, jist as he walked by the sea of 
Galilee. It was all dark night around Him, but I could 
see Him by the light that came from his face, and the long 
hair was hanging down on his shoulders. He came and took 


432 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


up my pearl and put it on his forehead, and it shone out 
like a star, and shone into my heart, and I felt happy ; — 
and he looked at me steadily, and rose and rose in the air, 
and, melted in the clouds, and I awoke so happy, and so 
calm ! ” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


433 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

It was a splendid evening in July, and the sky was filled 
high with gorgeous tabernacles of purple, and gold, the re- 
mains of a grand thunder-shower which had freshened the 
air, and set a separate jewel on every needle leaf of the old 
pines. 

Four years had passed since the fair Pearl of Orr’s Island 
had been laid beneath the gentle soil, which every year sent 
monthly tributes of flowers to adorn her rest, great blue 
violets, and starry flocks of ethereal eye-brights in spring, and 
fringy asters, and golden rod in autumn. In those days the 
tender sentiment which now makes the burial-place a culti- 
vated garden, waS excluded by the rigid spiritualism of the 
Puritan life, which, ever jealous of that which concerned the 
body, lest it should claim what belonged to the immortal 
alone, had frowned on all watching of graves, as an earth- 
ward tendency, and enjoined the flight of faith with the 
spirit, rather than the yearning for its cast-off garments. 

But Sally Kittridge being lonely, found something in her 
heart which could only be comforted by visits to that grave. 
So she had planted there roses and trailing myrtle, and 
tended and watered them; a proceeding which was much 
commented on Sunday noons, when people were eating 
their dinners and discussing their neighbors. 

It is possible good Mrs. Kittridge might have been much 
scandalized by it, had she been in a condition to think on 
19 


434 


THE PEARL OF ORE’S ISLAND. 


the matter at all; but a very short time after the funeral 
she was seized with a paralytic shock, which left her for a 
while as helpless as an infant ; and then she sank away into 
the grave, leaving Sally the sole care of the old Captain. 

A cheerful home she made, too, for his old age, adorning 
the house with many little tasteful fancies unknown in her 
mother’s days ; reading the Bible to him and singing Mara’s 
favorite hymns, with a voice as sweet as the spring blue-bird. 

The spirit of the departed friend seemed to hallow the 
dwelling where these two worshipped her memory, in simple- 
hearted love. Her paintings, framed in quaint woodland 
frames of moss and pine-cones by Sally’s own ingenuity, 
adorned the walls. Her books were on the table, and among 
them many that she had given to Moses. 

“ I am going to be a wanderer for many years,” he said 
in parting, “ keep these for me until I come back.” 

And so from time to time passed long letters between the 
two friends, — each telling to the other the same story, — that 
they were lonely, and that their hearts yearned for the com- 
munion of one who could no longer be manifest to the senses. 
And each spoke to the other of a world of hopes and memo- 
ries buried with her, “ Which,” each so constantly said, “ no 
one could understand but you.” Each, too, was firm in the 
faith that buried love must have no earthly resurrection. 
Every letter strenuously insisted that they should call each 
other brother and sister, and under cover of those names 
the letters grew longer and more frequent, and with every 
chance opportunity came presents from the absent brother, 
which made the little old cottage quaintly suggestive with 
smell of spice and sandal-wood. 

But, as we said, this is a glorious July evening, — and 
you may discern two figures picking their way over those 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


435 


low sunken rocks, yellowed with sea-weed, of which we have 
often spoken. They are Moses and Sally going on an even- 
ing walk to that favorite grotto retreat, which has so often 
been spoken of in the course of this history. 

Moses has come home from long wanderings. It is four 
years since they parted, and now they meet and have looked 
into each other’s eyes, not as of old, when they met in the first 
giddy flush of youth, but as fully developed man and woman. 
Moses and Sally had just risen from the tea-table where she 
had presided with a thoughtful housewifery gravity, just pleas- 
antly dashed with quaint streaks of her old merry wilfulness, 
while the old Captain, warmed up like a rheumatic grass- 
hopper in a fine autumn day, chirruped feebly, and told 
some of his old stories, which now he told every day, for- 
getting that they had ever been heard before. Somehow all 
three had been very happy ; the more so, from a shadowy 
sense of some sympathizing presence which was rejoicing to 
see them together again, and which, stealing soft-footed and 
noiseless everywhere, touched and lighted up every old fa- 
miliar object with sweet memories. 

And so they had gone out together to walk ; to walk tow- 
ards the grotto where Sally had caused a seat to be made, 
and where she declared she had passed hours and hours, 
knitting, sewing, or reading. 

“ Sally,” said Moses, “ do you know I am tired of wander- 
ing ? I am coming home now. I begin to want a home of 
my own.” This he said as they sat together on the rustic 
seat and looked off on the blue sea. 

“ Yes, you must,” said Sally. “ How lonely that ship 
looks, just coming in there.” 

“ Yes, they are beautiful,” said Moses abstractedly ; and 
Sally rattled on about the difference between sloops and 




436 THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 

brigs ; seeming determined that there should be no silence, 
such as often comes in ominous gaps between two friends 
who have long been separated, and have each many things 
to say with which the other is not familiar. 

« Sally ! ” said Moses, breaking in with a deep voice on 
one of these monologues. “ Do you remember some pre- 
sumptuous things I once said to you, in this place ? ” 

Sally did not answer, and there was a dead silence in which 
they could hear the tide gently dashing on the weedy rocks. 

“ You and I are neither of us what we were then, Sally,” 
said Moses. “We are as different as if we were each 
another person. We have been trained in another life, — 
educated by a great sorrow, — is it not so ? ” 

“ I know it,” said Sally. 

“ And why should we two, who have a world of thoughts 
and memories which no one can understand but the other, — 
why should we, each of us, go on alone ? If we must, why 
then, Sally, I must leave you, and I must write and receive 
no more letters, for I have found that you are becoming so 
wholly necessary to me, that if any other should claim you, 
I could not feel as I ought. Must I go ? ” 

Sally’s answer is not on record ; but one infers what it was 
from the fact that they sat there very late, and before they 
knew it, the tide rose up and shut them in, and the moon 
rose up in full glory out of the water, and still they sat and 
talked, leaning on each other, till a cracked, feeble voice 
called down through the pine-trees above, like a hoarse 
old cricket, — 

“ Children, be you there ? ” 

“ Yes, father,” said Sally, blushing and conscious. 

“ Yes, all right,” said the deep bass of Moses. “ I ’ll bring 
her back when I ’ve done with her, Captain.” 


THE PEARL OF ORR’S ISLAND. 


437 


“ Wal’, — wal’ ; I was gettin’ consarned ; but I see I don’t 
need to. I hope you won’t get no colds nor nothin’.” 

They did not ; but in the course of a month there was a 
wedding at the brown house of the old Captain, which every- 
body in the parish was glad of, and was voted without dis- 
sent to be just the thing. 

Miss Roxy, grimly approbative, presided over the prep- 
arations, and all the characters of our story appeared, and 
more, having on their wedding-garments. Nor was the 
wedding less joyful, that all felt the presence of a heavenly 
guest, silent and loving, seeing and blessing all, whose voice 
seemed to say in every heart, — 

“ He turneth the shadow of death into morning.” 


THE END. 


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[prose.] 

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by Ticknor and Fields. 11 


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12 A Lift of Books Publifhed 


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by Ticknor and Fields. 13 


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14 A LiSl of Books Publifhed 


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by Ticknor and Fields. 


15 


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16 mo. 


16 A Li§t of Books Publifhed. 


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